Christmas at Tracer's
by Danowsawa
Summary: Five stories of trial and tribulation, all centered around one goal: getting to, and surviving, Lena and Emily's Christmas party. However, not everybody may make it out alive; not if the proud Lena Oxton has anything to say about it...
1. The Die Is Cast

Lena's tongue stuck out between her tight lips as her hands held outstretched in front of her face, forming a frame with her fingers as she stared through the visage, critiquing the decorations she had managed to assemble above and around the fireplace mantle. Her lips turned in dismay, her vision having failed to come to fruition now that she was done, and in her defeat, her arms fell to her sides, along with a gentle sigh. She shook her head as she stepped back to the tiled floor in front of the fireplace, beginning to pull different objects from its display.

"Lena, I- What are you doing?" Emily paused, surprised, midway through the room.

She groaned, dropping the small, wooden ornaments to the ground as she rubbed her arm, "It just doesn't look right. I've been at it for an hour now; no matter how much I try, nothing works."

Emily's eyes constricted as she stared toward her, turning toward the dining room for a brief moment before returning to Lena, "Wait, that's _your_ faux lion pelt hanging over that chair at the table, right? You've _never_ had what some would call 'traditional' style."

Lena sighed, her eye's peering off in embarrassment, "I wanted it to look good for _you_ , not me…"

For a moment, Emily remained watching her with an indifferent look, but soon enough, her stare softened beneath a warm smile, shoving her hands into the pockets of her thin sweater, "Stick those knick-knacks back up there; I thought it looked pretty nice."

Lena only allowed a short moment of a grin before happily spinning toward the mantle once more, hurriedly bending down repeatedly as she grabbed different wooden animals to return to the display. Completed once again, Lena stepped back to examine her work, leaving Emily to approach her side, the two of them taking a look.

"Looks great to me," Emily happily noted, leaning her face toward Lena before quickly rubbing her nose against her cheek, earning a giggle from her lover, "Now, I need to get these cookies finished. Make sure you're ready; we're going to take them to the neighbors- lord knows they've dealt with enough nights of blinding lights zipping by their windows."

"Aww, c'mon," Lena smugly replied, cocking a grin, "A few light shows never hurt anybody."

"They do when poor Mr. Edson is epileptic," Emily frowned, "Hurry up and finish; there's plenty of stuff to do before the party next week."

Lena's eyes blew up wide, "P-Party?"

"We agreed to have the Christmas party here this year, remember? That was the night that you-" Emily trailed off, rubbing her face, "Crap. I forgot eggnog makes your mind fuzzy. Anyway, we're having the party here, next Wednesday."

Lena's teeth bit at her lip, nervously, as her arms curled up together in crossing, "Th-That means-"

"Yes, Angela will be here too," Emily sighed, "Why can't you two just get alo-"

"The Oxton name shall forever be protected!" Lena shouted proudly, throwing a single finger straight up into the air, "For my name isn't Lena Mildred!"

Emily cracked a short, muffled chuckle as she quickly covered her mouth, "Mildred?"

"Just- okay?" Lena answered, unsurely, as she quickly spun back around toward the fireplace, critiquing it once again as she whispered to herself, "This won't cut it in this case…"

"What?" Emily wondered aloud, "I said it looked fine. I thought you were decorating for me?"

Lena's shoulders dropped into a mischievous stance, her fingers clattering along each hand's ends as she chuckled to herself, lightly, casting a dark aura around her body, "Hehe, Ziegler won't know what hit her… She thinks she can tease as she pleases, but she has no idea what I know!"

Emily sighed, weakly, as she turned back toward the kitchen, "Rhyming like that really defeats your evil laugh, dear."

Lena shot her as intense glare as she disappeared into the other room, turning back toward her décor with a renewed vigor. She immediately rushed up to the mantle, quickly tossing everything she had assembled back into her large box on the ground.

"This is _my_ domain, Ziegler," she evilly muttered to herself, "I shall be the victo-"

"Cookies are done!" Emily shouted from the kitchen, forcing Lena's nose and ears to both perk up as she looked over her shoulder.

She backed up from the fireplace, slowly, cackling lowly as she went along, "Vengeance waits for nothing…except sweets."

She ducked away before a flash of light flew threw the air into the kitchen, where Emily was carefully lifting up a cookie sheet onto the counter. Her heel kicked the oven closed, her eyes pointed down to assure its closing, though as she returned her focus, a flash of light flew toward her, forcing her to jump up in shock, sending cookies flying into the air.

"AH! She shouted, frightfully, both from surprise and horror from the flying cookies, though Lena's hand skillfully whipped threw the air, catching them in a masterful display.

Holding the nearly lost goods in her hands, Lena gave a childish grin as Emily sighed in relief, "Finders keep-ah!"

She quickly dropped the cookies back on the pan as they scalded her fingers, Lena quickly running her fingers under cold water. Emily laid the sheet down and began transporting the cookies onto a cooling rack, eyeing Lena from behind.

"I was gonna let you have some," Emily noted, plainly, "You didn't have to steal them."

She shook her head, hiding a grin caused by her lover's wild antics, "I swear, I don't know what to do with you sometimes."

Lena shut the faucet off, warping through the air to Emily's side, which dried her hands off instantly, before entwining her arms along Emily's free limb, pushing her body against her's, "Just love me, I s'pose."

Emily's eyes rolled, "I already have that one down, my dear."

Lena rested her chin on Emily's shoulder, eyeing her hand as it directed the spatula, her voice escaping in a low, melancholic tone, "Hey, you remember when we first met- Well, when we first got together."

"Yes, quite vividly, actually," Emily nodded, "Though, for you, it might literally seem like yesterday with how much you deal with space-time. Why do you-"

She stopped herself, grinning sweetly as she turned her head to meet Lena's downturned eyes, tilting her head to meet her lover's atop her shoulder, "You were so scared."

"W-Was not!" Lena shouted, defensively, though it only received a soft laugh from Emily.

"Okay, you were 'unsure' about anything beyond a few days, or nights, in our case," Emily explained further, "So worried that I'd quickly grow tired of you like so many other people."

Lena groaned, "Oh, come on; I knew you were different."

Her lips twisted in uncertainly, her eyes peering off as her voice returned, softly, "But, say you weren't, you still remember our promise…right?"

"Yes," Emily nodded in a soft brightness, "And I've yet to invoke it. You honestly think I could ever get tired of you?"

Lena shrugged, her arms still tangled around her lover, "Noooo, I guess not. I mean, I do think about it a lot, I guess; I just-"

"Well quit it!" Emily demanded with a lighthearted breath, "I love how exciting you make living with you. I mean, some if the jump-scares are bit much, but even those, you manage to find ways to apologize."

She quickly stole a kiss from Lena's cheek before returning her attention to the counter, "Okay, no more distractions. Get back to work. Your _feud_ can wait until all the baking is done."

"Fiiiiine," Lena sighed, annoyingly, as she stumbled backwards, "Only if I can lick the spoons."

Emily cocked a grin, "If you were any more like a child while you were home, I'd be worried that our room wouldn't be cleaned up more often than does."

Lena gave a sarcastic laugh as she grabbed ahold of some ingredients, preparing her own batches of baked goods to add to Emily's.


	2. Lucille and the Boys

Jack's breath worked its way out of him at a rugged pace as his muscles strained, only making it a few paces before dropping the group's luggage back onto the ground, his body bent over in exhaustion. He desperately grabbed ahold of his knees, his head weakly lifting up toward Jesse, who was easily carrying his allotment of luggage toward the truck, eyeing his commander with a critiquing glance.

"Old man," Jesse sighed, "Just take two at a time; this ain't no race, ya know. We've got a week to make a few days trip."

Jack muttered, heavily, under his breath, "D-Don't talk down to your-"

"I'll talk down all I want," Jesse groaned, approaching his side to take a few of the bags that had begun to sag toward the ground, "'sides, it's impossible not to talk down to a man that's near keeled over. Who're tryin' ta prove yourself to? Surely not to _him_."

Suddenly, the truck that sat only a few feet away from them burst into an explosive vibration as its speakers began to blare with violently percussionist music, almost forcing the truck off the ground. Both men cringed as their ears rang, Jesse throwing a thumbs-down gesture into the direction of the rear-view mirror, quickly noticing Winston's stare before the music began to speedily deflate.

"S-Sorry guys!" he apologized, hurriedly, giving his arm a nervous scratch, "Something about this music just sort of...resonates with my soul, you know? on like a primal level or sorts; surely you understand."

Jack was just able to lift what was left of the luggage, "Human nature might not apply in this case."

With a far-off glance, Winston thought on his words for a moment before suddenly bursting into laughter just as Jack was grabbing ahold of the truck bed, the suddenly vibration of the car knocking the old man to the ground with a *THUD*. While Winston's laughter persisted, Jesse groaned as he approached his superior, reaching down to offer him a hand up.

Jack muttered, weakly, "What have we gotten ourselves into?"

"I know," Jesse shook his head, "Shoulda had the Boom Crew swing by here; at least, then, we might have had some peace. Not quiet, but peace."

"Hey!" Winston shouted, excitedly, "With this route, it would take a day or two longer, but look at all the tourist spots we could-!"

"NO!" "No…" came the two men's replies, forcing Winston to slouch over in the driver's seat, rejected.

He sighed, more to himself, "It was just an idea…"

"Well, your ideas often, uh… Let's just say, on the road, we don't have any of that, there, ballistic shielding. or those layers of steel reinforcement. All we've got is this thin hunk a' junk," Jesse appraised, depressingly.

Jack eyed him critically, "Hey…"

Slowly, Jesse's gaze turned to the old man, his eyes shutting, almost painfully, "Sorry… All we've got is Lucille, here."

"This truck has been in my family for generations," Jack explained, laboriously, as he finished dropping the bags into the truck bed, "With Winston tagging along, what, did you want to deal with getting him on a plane? Earn that 'World's Highest Gorilla' record?"

Winston chuckled, childishly, "Actually, that one time Tracer and I went to that Lucio concert, we might have earned that record right then and th-"

"Look, old-timer," Jesse complained, "It's bad enough that I'm road-trippin' with you two buffoons just so you two can get outta Dodge without any issues. I don't need your sarcasm or your old names for old vehicles!"

Jack's eyes shrunk, unenthusiastically, his final words on the matter coming out unshakably, "Looks like we have our first candidate for the back seat."

He threw open the small door that sat tucked behind the passenger door, motioning for Jesse to enter. The cowboy's head rolled back around his shoulders before finally giving Jack a hateful stare as he approached the designated seat- a long, thin cushion awaiting him in the small backseat, almost completely dark from Winston's body casting a shadow.

"Now," Jack continued, "I don't wanna hear a peep out of you that's a complaint. You know these parts, so I have no issues leaving you on the side of the road."

Jesse rolled his eyes as Jack shut the door after him, approaching the passenger's side door and making his way up into the truck, meeting Winston's worried stare as the ape spoke up, "You don't think you were too hard on him, do you?"

Jack gave him a prolonged, no-nonsense stare as he pulled the door closed, "Let's. go."

Winston shrugged, whipping out a cell phone, "Just wondering. Say, I got an app just for this occasion; it's got GPS, real-time…tracking…and…fully…optimized…"

Jack looked down at Winston's massive hands, his finger trying to carefully prod at the touch screen, even though it was pressing fifteen different items on it. He slowly reached over, taking ahold of the device and pulling it over to himself, much to Winston's curiosity.

"Just drive and I'll get it going," Jack groaned, quickly jerking toward the door as Jesse burst through the two front seats.

"HEY!" he shouted, "Why am I here if you've got these new, finaglin' navigation stuff?! You told me-!"

"That we need you to help get us out of here, yes," Winston answered, calmly, "We're in the middle of nowhere out here in –I don't even know if it's still Arizona- god help us if we run into bandits out here or anything of the sort. Well, Jesse McCree help us if that happens."

Wearing a scowl, Jesse turned toward him, "So you two came all the way out here just to get me and get out?"

"Lena was _very_ specific," Jack groaned, having readjusted in his seat, fiddling with Winston's phone, "Go there, get Jesse; we'll need him for, what she so eloquently termed 'gunrage', which I assume is like sabrage, but with a gun. No telling why she couldn't have just asked _me_."

Jesse scoffed as a wild grin smeared across his face, "Please, old man; it takes a keen eye for such things. I'm shocked you've made it _this_ far, what with aiming past targets _and_ your cataracts."

"That's it!" Jack shouted, whipping his body atop the console between the two front seats, angrily throwing his arms at Jesse to strangle him, though Winston was quick to hold him back.

"Hey! HEY!" the ape shouted, now getting frustrated himself, finally yanking Jack back into his seat, "I NEVER thought I'd see the day where a gorilla would be talking some sense into human beings!"

Jack eyed him, surprised by his self-deprecation, but quickly returned his attention to Jesse as the cowboy chuckled, "You forget, I answered to Reyes, not you, old man."

"HEY!" Winston repeated as Jack tried throwing a punch around his seat, "We've got FIVE DAYS together, and I for one am not going to be the one stopping every little tussle."

"Tussle?" Jesse asked, flabbergasted by such a childish term from a scientist.

Winston gripped the wheel, tightly, "Now, we're going to be civil, got it? or so help me, I'll strap you two to the seats- I don't mind driving the entire time if it means peace and quiet."

Jack crossed his arms, leaning into the side of the vehicle, "You're like five hundred pounds; you can't go two days without crashing into a deep sleep."

"Nevertheless!" Winston insisted, though Jack shot a stare into the back seat.

"I'll take over," the commander concluded, his eyes meeting Jesse's angered glare, "You can trust me not to lose control."

Winston groaned, "And that display a moment ago?"

Jesse turned his stare toward him, "I told you, you can trust me."

"Let's hope I won't have to trust either of you two on this drive," Winston groaned, finally preparing to take off, suddenly grinning as an idea formed within his head, "If not, I've already rigged up this baby to my mp3 player, and I already know which song drives you both crazy."

Jack burst out, worriedly, "You "rigged up" Lucille?!"

Winston shrugged, non-chalantly, "Just a few things to make sure she could make the trip."

He reached around to pull his head over his shoulder, watching the road from the rear window as he began to back up, "…Hopefully."

"What?" Jack asked, unsurely.

"Nothing!" Winston assured with a nervous chuckle, earning yet another glare from his co-pilot.

With that, Lucille sped up across the Arizona sands, lost within the rising dust that followed along behind her. Jesse peered out the backseat window, his lips turning into dissatisfied swirls as he contemplated the journey ahead. He hoped it wouldn't seem as long as he was, now, expecting.


	3. A Morning Rendezvous

A soft *click* ran gently through the air as Fareeha stood over the bed, sleepily, turning off the alarm so as not to disturb the angelic shape that laid just upon the mattress beside her. Still, his her hair all scraggily and her shirt off one shoulder, Fareeha was left with little more than self-consciousness, even if Angela had told her, many times at that, that she didn't mind. Still, she couldn't help but feel embarrassed at being seen, especially since Angela always seemed rather proper regardless of how restless her nights had been.

On this morning, the day the two were to go pick outfits for "The Oxton Collective", which was the title emblazoned upon the Christmas invitations, Fareeha was rather surprised that Angela had been sleeping as soundly as she was. The prospect of spending any time with Lena would often shove her into a state of denial or frustration, for reasons Fareeha had yet to decipher, and seeing her sleeping so restfully was still rather surprising.

With little time to ponder over such things, Fareeha crept quickly out of the bedroom, not wanting to wake her angel, especially after doing such a great job of turning her alarm off. Angela would have some more rest, and Fareeha would be able to use her own tactfulness as the doctor's alarm clock, a thought that forced a mischievous grin along her face as she made it into the bathroom to prepare for her shower.

As the torrent of water rushed down into the tub, Fareeha frowned at the sight in the mirror, even her brow furrowing at the level of dishevelment going on with her hair. She had crud in her eyes, a few strands of Angela's hair attached to her shirt, and-

A gasp escaped her lungs, her teeth biting down on her lower lip as she leaned toward the mirror, her hand reaching up to the side of her neck. She made a near-inaudible sad, whimpering sound as her fingers trailed over the patch of darkened skin- no doubt the usual result of Angela claiming her body as her own. Fareeha groaned, now wondering how she would hide the hickey for when the two would be out and about later on, though she went along with her routine, stepping into the steaming shower.

Standing beneath the warm stream of water, Fareeha's mind began to wander, more so curiously than anything else. It was uncharacteristic for Angela to be sleeping so well the night before anything that caused her any amount of apprehension, she thought. Reaching up to touch her neck again, her mind began to fall into its memories of the night before, thinking back to any reason why Angela may have…

* * *

Angela peeked out from the kitchen, eyeing Fareeha on the couch, the soldier still knee-deep in trying to figure out how to work a small contraption in her hands. Their living room had been adorned with all the classical Christmas fare, even if the holiday itself was more foreign to Fareeha than anything else. Growing up an Amari, she hadn't much time for any holidays at all, much less this one, yet she had taken to it like a champ, and Angela was more than excited to introduce her to movies, foods, television specials, anything that made her, herself, excited for the holidays.

For their first year, Angela had decided to select a film for them to watch for their 'altered' Twelve Days of Christmas, which all were to take place before Lena and Emily's party, so as to leave them uninterrupted. With every film, she had an ornament selected to add to their pristine tree that stood in the corner, regally, and by this night, they'd gotten rather far into their little event.

Angela couldn't help but stare at Fareeha in her green elf outfit, a onesie she had bought somewhere, which the soldier still had reservations about wearing, though after seeing Angela's outfit and being told "either we both wear them, or neither of us do", Fareeha was left with little choice if she was to witness Angela in her Santa outfit again.

Finally, Angela walked out from the kitchen, making her way toward the couch with a plate of cookies as Fareeha grunted lightly, trying to work the ornament that was to accompany the film they were about to sit down and watch, a small cannon with a nutcracker soldier beside it, which was supposed to fire a cannonball once assembled. No matter how hard she tried, Fareeha was left lost with the contraption, simply shaking her head.

"Welp, I've got nothing," she shrugged, dropping her hands into her lap, "I mean, I followed the manual to the 'T', read it fifteen times, looked online for assembly videos; the whole nine yards."

Angela carefully placed the platter of sweets onto the coffee table, sitting down beside the befuddled soldier, "It's okay; you have me, and I have you."

"Yeah," Fareeha sighed, "I just- you know how frustrating it is when I can't finish something. I get all riled up and-"

She had finally looked up toward Angela, her mouth dropping as the doctor grinned at her, her fingers slowly trailing down the middle of her Christmas-themed red coat, the buttons having been undone as her fingers just barely pulled the two ends apart, exposing her beauteously niveous skin, teasingly. The ornament in her hand suddenly burst out a small cannonball across the room, unbeknownst to its holder.

"Hmm," Angela mused aloud, "I suppose you _could_ finish something else. or some _one_. Might that help?"

* * *

Fareeha shook her head rapidly, taking a step back to recover her balance in the slick bottom of the shower, "Well, that explains the hick- Of course my skin isn't dark enough to hide that sort of thing!"

She rolled her eyes, unamused, as she finished up rinsing the lathery soap from her hair and body, carefully grabbing the whole of her hair in one hand, running it down its short length to wring all of the soap out, thankfully for her considerably short locks. She very much preferred long hair on Angela, mostly because it wasn't her responsibility to care for, she figured, snickeringly.

Shutting the water off, she grabbed her towel and dried herself off, now thinking of how she would wake her lover up, trying to outperform from whatever she had done in the past. Her lips contorted in thought as she stepped into view of herself in the mirror once again, her eyes immediately latching onto the bruise at her neck, her lips quickly turning into a frown. However, a sinister thought ran through her head, and slowly enough, a smirk arose from that same frown, her eyes turning toward the bathroom door as her hands ran her towel up and down her nude body.

Having dried off, she stepped quietly back into the bedroom, eyeing Angela's sleeping body carefully, trying to figure out a method of attack. She quickly settled for simply crawling up from beneath her, and sure enough, she rested a knee atop the edge of the body, leading her other knee further up, beside Angela's legs before her hands joined in, the soldier on all fours as she crawled up to Angela, who was still wrapped up within the warm blankets that surrounded her.

Fareeha smirked evilly as she pulled the covers down past her shoulders, slowly leaning down and only just pressing her lips against the nape of Angela's neck, the sudden contact causing the doctor to slowly quake in her sleep, reaching a hand up to hold Fareeha's shoulder.

"Mmm," she hummed, slowly entering the world of the living, "Mmm, babe. Quit it, it's too early in the morning…"

Still hiding a mischievous grin, Fareeha answered quietly, "I have to return the favor from last night though."

She heard a barely audible giggle from Angela, dampened by her being half-way asleep still, as she succumbed to Fareeha's gentle kissing. Her hand reached up, catching a bit of her wet hair, causing her to jump back in surprise from the dampness. The damp touch roused her quicker from her sleep, and Angela slowly began to ready herself to get up, when suddenly, Fareeha grasped her shoulders, latching onto her lover's neck with her lips.

Angela's eyes bolted wide open as she began to struggle, "H-Hey! What are you- AH!"

She yelped out painfully as Fareeha pulled her face away from her neck, a loud *POP* bursting out as Angela's skin returned to normal as Fareeha rolled off of her and onto the bed beside her. Angela quickly sat up, clutching her neck as she stared at Fareeha, angrily.

"What was that all about?!" she seethed.

Fareeha giggled, "What? You gave _me_ one; I figured you'd prefer if we matched. If I'm going out in public like this, you bet your ass we're doing it together."

Angela puffed her chest out, angrily, though Fareeha had also accrued a trump card during her display, "And what's with the alcohol on your breath, anyway?"

Immediately, Angela's body jerked as she suddenly became taciturn, looking off into space, "N-Nothing."

"You didn't drink last night," Fareeha concluded, thinking on the fly, "You didn't happen to wake up in the middle of the night and-"

"Y-You know how much I'm not looking forward to this party!" Angela suddenly shouted, crossing her arms, "The only reason I'm going is because Emily is also involved, and I'm not about to break _her_ heart when it's that…little…"

Her eyes shrunk in displeasure as she slowed to a pause, shaking her head as she groaned, "It's a moot point anyway."

Fareeha stared up at her, concerned, "Why do you two, you know, not like each other so much? I thought you were the one who got her on the team to begin with, and didn't see return the favor at time when everybody started arguing? I thought she sided with you all the time."

Sighing lowly, Angela shook her head, "Lets just- okay? We're up early to begin with; let's just get an early start today. That'll leave us more time for tonight, and we'll beat the rush at the tailor."

"W-Wait, we're still going out?" Fareeha questioned, worried, "Like this?!"

Angela shrugged, sweetly in sarcasm, still peeved by her earlier act, " _I've_ got a turtle-neck. What do you have, dear?"

Fareeha sighed, defeatedly, "I, uh… I guess I have some makeup or something."

"Okay, tell you what," Angela replied with a genuine smile, "Since you didn't pry, I'll help get you set up. I swear, you didn't even think of a scarf or something?"

With a snap of her fingers, Fareeha nodded, credulously, "Scarf! That's it."

She suddenly pushed her body up to her knees, reaching up to quickly steal a kiss from Angela, leaving her rather bothered by the visage in front of her, particularly Fareeha's nude body. Angela nervously scratched her cheek, her eyes locked onto the beautifully tanned body that shared the bed with her, earning an inevitably teasing grin from Fareeha herself.

"Well, like you said, we need to get ready," Fareeha concluded, bouncing off of the bed, leaving a scented trail of lilacs in the breeze, Angela's favorite.

She could only frown as Fareeha exited the room, falling to the side back onto the bed, rolling around restlessly for a bit before working her way off of the bed, her turn to prepare for the day on the heels of her lover's own preparation.


	4. Checking It Twice

Emily sighed heavily, her hands balled into fists as they rested atop her hips. She had been standing at the doorway between the kitchen and dining room, watching Lena curled up on top of one of their chairs, her back turned away from Emily, almost cackling as she peeled page after page of a beige folder that sat on the table. Emily's lips turned to a look of unamusement, unsure of what Lena was doing, though knowing it wasn't what she was supposed to be doing.

"Hoo hoo hoo," Lena laughed lightly to herself, flipping through the pages of the folder, "Hehe, we'll have all we need with this!"

Skeptically, and slightly curious, Emily's eyes narrowed before she took a step toward the table, resting her arms as she slowly crept around Lena, not wanting to surprise her or anything. She placed her hand onto the table to support her as she leaned over the pilot's shoulder, Lena immediately jumping and shooting her head toward her.

"What's this?" Emily asked, innocently.

"N-N-Nothing!" Lena shouted, quickly whipping up the folder into her arms, though, in her haste, she'd clasped the folder shut backwards, sending the assortment of papers flying across the room.

She stood there, wide-eyed, unsure of what, if anything, to do. Emily watched her, returning to her bemusement, as she gently reached out to snatch a stray sheet of paper out from floating in the air. As she read, Lena turned away, almost in preparation for the scolding she was expecting, and sure enough, Emily appeared as the paper lowered away from her face.

"This…is Angela Ziegler's medical records?" she wondered aloud, curiously, "Specifically…her allergies?"

Lena immediately threw out a quick shrug, "I-I don't know! I wanted to make sure we didn't put in anything that would cause her to break out in hives or anything!"

Emily's head tilted, "Uh huh. And where's the records for the rest of our guests? I suppose you know all of their allergies off the top of your head, correct?"

"Y-Yeah," Lena answered, unsurely, rubbing her arm, "Um… Let's see; Winston, he's allergic to sumac-"

"Sumac," Emily wondered aloud, wanting so desperately for Lena to fall into her own den of traps, rather than bust her herself, "Aren't those poisonous anyway?"

Lena's teeth appeared as she bit her lip, looking away worriedly as Emily sighed, shaking her head, "You are a horrible liar, you know."

"I-I've been practicing!"

"You've better not!" Emily retorted before rubbing her face, exasperated, "Look, it's been a long day trying to prepare for everything. I've just nearly finished up the pastries; we still have dinner prep, presents to buy, our outfits, visit the florist, go by the-"

She stopped herself as Lena's face slowly dimmed away into a vacant expression, though Emily was quick to snap a finger to retrieve her attention, "Did you get all that?"

"There's thaaaat muuuuch?!" Lena complained, her body sinking low.

Emily frowned, "I mean, you wanted the party here. What all did you expec-"

Her eyes grew suspicious again, "Wait a minute… Was this all just to-"

"She started it!"

"Started what?!" Emily exclaimed, both due to confusion as well as frustration.

Lena quickly tried to hide an unsure frown as she shoved her arms into a cross, looking away, "I don't wanna talk about it…"

"Weren't you two buddies back before everything was disavowed? What happened?" Emily asked, innocently enough, though Lena offered nothing of an answer.

Instead, she quickly turned toward the kitchen, "D-Don't we have some more cooking to get d-"

" _Now_ you want to help..?" Emily sighed, though a mischievous smirk appeared across her face, finally having some ammunition for which to get Lena to skip to _her_ lou for once this holiday season, "Weeeell… We _do_ have stuff to cook, but it'd be better to hold off on that until closer to next Wednesday. What do you say we go shopping for presents instead?"

Lena's head popped out from the kitchen, her eyes glazed over as her mouth gaped open, the sheer excitement of such things having pulled her into an enchanted world that she had only known as a child, even if she still returned to it every year. Emily smiled lovingly in the sight, having grown to adore, rather greatly, Lena's childishness at times, especially since she was aware enough to know when to switch back to "adult mode". Now was not the time Emily was expecting it- rather, she knew it would be more fun with Lena excited dashing up and down store aisles like a reindeer through snow.

"You have a list, right?

Lena hopped out from the kitchen excitedly, "Do I?!"

She whipped out her phone and quickly began scrolling through it, "Let's see, Winston wants an electric razor, but I also have him down for that chocolate peanut butter that the boys are supposed to bring from the States- they're supposed to secretly transport it under his nose! Think of the shock once we tell him he had it in his grasp the entire time!"

"Uhh, Jack gets the little thing you wear for when you fall and can't get back up," Lena snickered, "That's the joke gift, though; he also gets the scale model of his statue, and a dog-tag set with the names of everybody whose served under him. Then Jesse gets a new hat that I picked up in Argentina, along with the 'Hot Sauces of the World' collection!"

She nodded along as she continued, "Fareeha gets the Helwan Dunes Summer Classic jersey, and a cool 'Overwatch' emblem that Torb forged, himself, in the fires of Mt. Boom."

Emily watched her, curiously, as she explained, "That's what he calls his workshop."

"Uh huh," Emily nodded, "And aren't you forgetting-"

"Ziegler gets a lump of coal," Lena shrugged, "Helloooo."

Emily groaned, rubbing her face with both hands, "Okay, and what else?"

Now was Lena's turn to appear confused as she watched Emily, carefully, "…else?"

"We've got, like, six more people showing up," Emily noted, "Didn't you know?"

Lena immediately panicked, shooting her head down and furiously scrolling through her phone, "I-I- Hang on, I got this! I just need to… to…"

Emily quickly approached her resting a hand on her shoulder to calm her down, "We've got a whole week, dear; just hold your horses. We'll just come up with stuff while we're out, okay? Though, I'll be meeting a few of them for the first time, so I'll have to trust you'll make the best choices. Most of your ideas were pretty sweet, though, so far."

Lena gave her Emily a sweet smile, though it quickly faded as Emily sighed, "Well, besides Doctor Ziegler. I'll make sure to get her something a bit more appropriate than a lump of coal."

"Fiiiiine," Lena weakly groaned, holding onto Emily for support as her body sank toward the ground before popping right back up again, "Oh! If we're going out, I get to see you in your pretty scarf!"

Emily grinned, "Yes, I suppose you do. And I get to see you in your Overwatch mittens."

Lena happily dashed to the door in a flash of atmosphere, "Last one to the door's a rotten ecles-"

"You have so much advantage, it's not even funny, dear," Emily complained, unable to conceal her grin, but Lena quickly returned to her side, wrapping her arms around her.

Lena pouted as she snuggled her face into Emily's shoulder, "What are you saying? _You_ have all the advantage; I can't bear to be apart from you for _that_ long."

Giving a smirk of her own, Emily rested her head atop of Lena's as the two managed to keep on walking, "Those cookies must have made you sweeter, huh."

"Nah," Lena reminded, quickly, "You do, though."


	5. On the Road to Luleå

Jamison Fawkes, having spent his entire life down under in Australia, where winters were not only rather mild, but were also not in December, now found himself wrapped up, tightly, in a bevy of coats, sweaters, and even one blanket on top of it all, his footsteps working themselves along at about a yard a minute, his feet slowly scooting along while his arms held tightly around his chest, his body shivering up, he had hoped, enough heat to comfort him, but in the dead of Swedish winter, not even the sun offered him a glance.

His beanie pulled down low so that only his eyes peeked out above his nose, which also wore its own miniature beanie, he followed along the snowish angel in front of him, though he had had many a thought to just simply collapse and give it all up.

Mei, on the other hand, zoomed excitedly in front of him, zig-zagging along as she ducked close to the ground to examine whatever remnants of plants she could find in the snow, hopping up excitedly as her gloves fought to uncover the contents of signs that had also been hidden behind frosty snow. Even when she stood in one spot for long enough that her boots sunk deep into the piles of snow surrounding them, she only giggled as she yanked her feet out, fighting the snow to the point of falling down at one point, though even then, she simply rolled around in the snow, forming a snow angel, and hopping back up excitedly, her dark hair stained beautifully with white patches of snow.

"Jamie! Having fun yet?!" she shouted, happily, bounding along in the fresh snow.

"N-N-NNNN-N-No," he answered, shakily, "A-A-AA-A-Are w-w-w-we c-c-cl-c-c-close?"

"To Torb's? I dunno; I've been checking all the signs, but I haven't seen anything about Loo Leeo," Mei answered holding her hand over her eyes to peer off into the distance, "I thiiiink I see another one down the road, so maybe that's it!"

She dashed onward, laughing excitedly as she jumped from snowbank to snowbank, leaving Jamison to stand in place for a moment to rest for a moment, his body continuing to shake non-stop. His eyes lowered as the cold wind returned to lap at his exposed skin, and as he turned away to shield himself from the breeze, his eyes caught the sign, again, that Mei had uncovered just a few minutes ago. He examined it carefully, finding there to be a '2km' sitting beside the word 'Luleå'.

"M-M-MMM-M-M-Mei," he muttered, almost begging, praying she could still hear him at this distance.

Sure enough, she spun around, mid-jump, "What's up?!"

"A-A-Are you sure that y-y-you have it r-r-r-r-right?" he questioned, "I-I-In Sw-Swedish?"

Mei covered her face with her glove, thinking on his assessment as she started back toward him, unable to come to a conclusion on her own, shrugging, "I dunno; I don't know Swedish."

She reached over her shoulder into her backpack, pulling out a small saucer-like device with a dark visor atop of it, her lips curling into a heart-felt smile as she began, "Snowball! Can you help us out?"

The dark visor showed up a sad, pixelated face, followed by a blocky nose with a snot-bubble dribbling down, leaving Mei unsatisfied as she spoke up again, "C'mon, it's not _that_ cold!"

She brought Snowball up close to her face, looking into its visor with a sincere smile, "If there's any mechanical piece of equipment that can do this, I know it's you, Snowball."

Bringing the metallic device up to her face, she gave it a quick kiss, suddenly leading Snowball into a whirring state, its engines beginning to rev as the visor showed a red-lit, determined pixilation of a face, its base beginning to spin around, wildly, until it began to float away out of Mei's hands. The scientist's face beamed as she clapped her hands together, the two travelers watching as Snowball quickly hovered over toward the sign, making an affirmative-sounding beeping as it rushed toward Jamison's side.

"W-W-W-WWW-W-Well, that s-s-s-settles i-i-it," Jamison nodded, hurriedly, in a vain attempt to work up some more warmth.

Mei thought for another moment, "Two kilometers, so not too terribly far. Think you can make-"

As if Snowball's hovering had worked up enough of a burst of wind, Jamison suddenly fell over toward the ground, falling straight into a large pile of snow, even disappearing into the fluffy whiteness. Mei gasped as she rushed over, and even Snowball rushed down near the site to examine the man.

Sliding to her knees, Mei quickly wrapped her arms around him, pulling him out from the snow pile onto her lap, rushing to brush away the snow that covered his own exposure of skin along his face, "Sorry! Sorry! I didn't mean to- Sorry!"

"I-I-It's no p-p-problem," Jamison answered, "M-M-My legs ju-ju-just lock-locked up, I guess."

Mei frowned as she worked the last bits of snow out from his face with her finger, her face brightening into a soft smile as Jamison's eyes poked up beneath the melted ice around his face, "Don't worry; we'll get you there and Torb and everybody will get you all warm and up to tip-top shape!"

Suddenly, Jamison's face began to redden, his covered face hiding his boyish smile as he spoke up, comfortably, "Eh, well, it's pretty nice and warm where I am right now."

Immediately, Mei's own face shot a blush that matched his, her body instinctively shooting her up to her feet as she grasped her hood, yanking it down over her face nervously, unable to hear Jamison's grunt at his head suddenly hit the ground. She quickly found her wits once more, suddenly lifting her hood up to find Jamison encapsulated within the snow again, and she quickly returned to her knees to help him up again.

"Sorry! Sorry!" she shouted, persistently, "I didn't mean to-"

Jamison waved her off with a thick, bundled up arm, "D-D-Don't even m-mention it, sheila. L-L-Let's just get inside, y-y-yeah?"

She nodded quickly as she worked her way to her feet, bending down low to lift him up as Snowball pattered through the air, helping to push him up. Halfway through, a massive churning sound grew quickly through the frigid air, leaving Mei to quickly whip her head around to see what it was. In the grey air, a large, rumbling presence was approaching them from off the road, rumbling over the ground as its massive tire treads pounded at the ground.

Mei's eyes widened as Jamison slipped out from her arms again, his body falling to the ground again with a quiet, whimpering, "O-O-Oooow…"

The large contraption came close enough for Mei to discern its shape as that of a large, covered snowmobile of sorts, its engines beginning to wind down as it slowed to a crawl along the feathery snow at its treads. As it came to a near-stop, the driver's side door flew open, a bulky leg appearing in its place before it lowered toward the tire below, the rest of its body following along.

"Well I'll be!" came a woman's voice from beneath the hoodie, which had been zipped up all the way to the top of the hood to form a snowman's face, "If it isn't two travelers from Overwatch left out in the winter weather!"

Mei's face immediately beamed, "Brigitte!"

The driver gave a thumbs up before reaching to unzip the snowman's head, revealing the daughter of Torbjörn herself, Brigitte Lindholm, her smiling face immediately turning into one of concern, "Uhh, your friend there…"

Both Mei and Snowball spun around, the scientist immediately gasping frightfully at the sight of Jamison nearly fully covered with snow, "S-S-Sorry!"

She quickly tried lifting him up again, her worry increasing at the appearance of his blue face, though she quickly overheard footsteps from behind her, a large arm reaching past her and grabbing ahold of his shoulder. Looking up, she found Brigitte there, pulling his body over her shoulders, easily.

"We've got a heater in the truck, don't worry," she assured with a smile, "We'll get him back and perked up in time for fika!"

She turned to head back to the snowmobile with Mei in tow, admiring her muscles, "My goodness, what have you been eating?!"

Brigitte sighed with a frown, "Not so much, seeing as how I've been grounded _for life_. Soon as mother found out I'd been trawling all over omnic-infested Germany, she brought the hammer down on me faster than…well, you know. Took me an hour of convincing just to get out here to, I guess, save you two."

Mei giggled at her inadvertent roundabout description, following her up into the truck, "Well thank you! My compadre hasn't the, uh, experience with the cold as we do."

"N-N-N-N-NNNo, I don't," Jamison answered, weakly, "Th-Th-Thank you!"

Brigitte grinned, shutting the door behind the group as she cranked up the engine, "Don't even mention it. What brings you out here, anyway? Father mentioned you two showing up, but wouldn't say why."

Mei's face suddenly dropped, suddenly remembering her only direction. She turned, worriedly, to Jamison, whose eyes returned her glare with an equally concerned expression, only forcing Brigitte to become even more curious. Mei cleared her throat, nervously, desperately seeking out something, anything, to cover for them.

"I, uh…well, you see-"

"It has something to do with Wilhelm, huh?" Brigitte finished, drolly, sighing exasperatingly, "Man, when father says he's on mother's side, I swear, he dives all the way into that end of the pool… I thought he was joking when he said he would take it to Overwatch, themselves, to make sure I wasn't running off on some adventure."

She groaned, her lips curling dissatisfactorily, though she slowly sighed in acceptance, turning toward Mei as she began driving through the snow, "Oh well. It sure is good to see you again, though. I can't even touch father's equipment when mother's home."

"Wow," Mei frowned, though she quickly perked up, "Don't worry, I've got an idea! But Jamison, you'll have to help out…"

Having warmed up adequately enough, Jamison lifefully nodded, albeit rather uneasily, even while unwrapping his blanket to keep from sweating, now, "I mean, I don't even know these people, so I don't-"

"Don't worry," Mei grinned, "That only helps us out in this case…"


	6. The Call to London

_**-Algiers, Algeria-**_

Wilhelm Reinhardt, the colossus of a man that he was, contentedly stood against the railing of the hotel balcony, leaning back against it as he brought a mug of coffee up to his lips, taking a gentle swig, careful not to move his body much. As the morning sun peered over the horizon, he had quickly noticed that the woman who had shared the bed with him the night before had her sleeping head turned out toward the panes of glass that overlooked the impending sunrise. Dutifully, Reinhardt had quickly walked over toward the balcony, watching the shadow cast by his large frame atop of Ana Amari's sleepful body.

He couldn't help but smile, still, whenever he managed to watch her sleeping like this. Between all the regrets the both of them had about not requiting their affections many years before, they knew it hadn't been the proper time, anyway, and that they might not have had nearly the time they now enjoyed, were they in love, as well as in Overwatch.

A grin spread across his face as he lowered his head, running his hands along the smooth metal of the railings. For all the lives he had protected throughout his life, it had all culminated in his protecting of just a single life. He never could fully understand how that one life just so happened to belong to the most beautiful being that he could have possibly laid his eyes- well, his eye on.

He scoffed to himself, quietly, reminiscing on how reckless he had been as a Crusader. He had merely been a boy then, and now his hair had turned grey, his skin wrinkled. He was now just an old man. Where had the in-between gone, he wondered, listlessly.

His head rose, immediately leading to a slightly panicked stare. The sun had risen higher in his reverie, nearly passing along above his head, just a few inches away from meeting those lovely, hidden eyes. Reinhardt's eyes quickly darted back and forth as he sought out something to stand on, extending his vigil. His body quickly jerked toward a far away clay pot that was empty, but he just as immediately paused, nearly forgetting that he was already shielding her eyes simply by standing there.

He growled lightly, gripping at the raining with displeasure, pushing himself up so that he sat atop the thin line of metal, feeling the support of the structure wavering under his muscular weight. His lips trembled nervously, though he slowly rose his gaze to see that he had bought his lover another inch or two of sleep. He sighed contentedly, though his grip didn't weaken by any margin.

With some amount if time left to move his head, Reinhardt peered off into the city, his eyes squinted in the morning light. He didn't even notice Ana rustling about in her sleep, having woken up, though she kept her eyes closed, enjoying the silken threads that covered her beneath such a soft blanket. Still, the morning air caught her nose and she decided to awaken fully, her eyes slowly opening only to shoot wide at the sight before her.

She jumped up in the bed, shouting, "Wilhelm!"

The large man immediately spun his head toward her, forcing the thin metal beneath him to wobble as he grinned, nervously, "H-Hey, dear! Morning!"

"Don't 'morning' me!" she shouted, jumping from the bed and rushing toward him, "What are you doing?! Are you crazy?!"

Reinhardt smiled, "Only crazy in love."

"Well if its going to get you killed, cut that out!" Ana demanded, immediately grasping his wrist and pulling him to the safety of the balcony.

His body slid down from the railing, shaking as he laughed a boisterous laugh, managing to take an arm and wrap it around Ana's body, pulling her closer against him. Despite her ire toward his recklessness, Ana only groaned defeated as she allowed her body to be tamed by his strong arm, shaking her head in her own bewilderment.

"If I had any idea of what to do with you…" she sighed lightly, shaking her head.

Without replying, Reinhardt simply gave her a hug before releasing her, rushing back into their extravagant penthouse room. He quickly pulled the phone over to the edge of a desk along with a menu, falling back onto the single bed as he quickly peered along the different selection of food, speaking aloud excitedly.

"First things first, my love; breakfast!" he shouted exuberantly, carefully grasping a pencil with his fingers.

Ana had followed him back into their room, and as Reinhardt had sat along the end of the mattress, she had crawled up onto the bed herself, walking her knees over to his back and leaning over top of him, wrapping her slender arms around his massive chest, "Oh, let's try the lobia; I hear that's great for the wintertime. Even if it's humid as all hell."

"Hmm," Reinhardt nodded, slowly, "Maybe this kanafeh as well. Let's see… It's says it's a dessert, but with all the sugar you were expelling last night-"

"Now hush!" Ana ordered, hurriedly covering his mouth with her hand, "Order our meals first."

Reinhardt sighed longingly, though smiled happily as she offered him a slight kiss at his head before working her way off the bed, the former Crusader missing the cool feeling of silk along his back. He still frowned once the feeling of her lips died off, and he only slowly lifted the phone up to his ear before a clicking noise greeted him.

"One…new…message…" went a mechanical voice, catching Reinhardt off-guard, though he listened intently as Lena Oxton's ravenous voice suddenly burst into his ear.

"REINHARDT! ANA! YOU BOTH HAVE- oh, wow, that might have been too close after all… Ahem! You two have been cordially invited to jolly old London for the annual Christmas party, which will be held at the home of Oxton and… What? Really?"

The voice trailed off for a moment, nearly vanishing into the background as Emily's voice came across only as a whisper before Lena's voice returned, "The home of Oxton and, uh, Emily! Please attend next Wednes-!"

A sound like *crashing* emerged from the backround, along with a gasp by Lena, followed by an aggravated groan from deep within the audio again, ending with Lena, as happily as always, going along, "Eh, See you here!"

*click*

Reinhardt groaned, dropping his face into his hand, sadly, as Ana watched from the wall of glass that separated the room from the balcony, leaning against the door's frame with a dissatisfied frown, "What's up?"

"Oh!" he answered, suddenly jerking up and onto his feet, "It's just Tracer inviting us to their Christmas party. I guess they're hosting it this year."

"Hmm," Ana mused, quietly, "And you don't want to attend?"

Reinhardt gave a low chuckle, "I mean, I wouldn't mind. But you and I- I mean, we have a lot to make up for. I envisioned us spending this time hopping from country to country, seeing the sites-"

"And keeping our promise from thirty years ago, no doubt," Ana smirked, mischievously, catching a sudden blush from Reinhardt.

"Well, I mean-" he began, embarrassingly, though he quickly paused himself, "A lot has changed since then. for both of us."

Sighing, Ana nodded as she approached him, "I suppose your correct. I'm no longer your eyes, for a start."

"Hey," Reinhardt interrupted, reminding her, "You still have one good one. As long as I have one vertebrae, I will continue to be your shield, as well. No matter how far into retirement we tumble. You still need somebody to scare of the kids throwing toilet paper into our trees when Halloween comes around!"

Ana laughed amusedly, shaking her head, "Please, dear. I know what you mean, though."

She made it in front of him, the two embracing one another as Ana thought aloud, "Let's see… We had a few more days scheduled on our trip. When is the party?"

"Next Wednesday," Reinhardt frowned, "The day before our final stop."

"-in Florence," Ana finished for him, her lips twisting in thought, "Let's do this; we skip Stuttgart and-"

"Hey," Reinhardt whined in horror, though Ana held up a hand to stop him.

"We skip Stuttgart and…" she wrapped an arm around her lover's neck, pulling his face down close to her's, "we finish up in Florence…and I'll make sure our trip isn't the only thing getting finished between us."

Reinhardt grinned from ear to ear, peering aimlessly into her eyes, "You sure do have a way with words, my love."

"Don't I, though?" Ana complimented herself, proudly, as she pulled away from his large shoulders, "Now let's get ready. You still need to take me by the Martyr's Memorial and the Palais de Rais."

Reinhardt nodded, dutifully, "On my honor, my love."

Ana managed a soft wink toward him as she disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Reinhardt there to think back to that night, thirty years ago. His and Ana's first assignment together, he remembered; though it also coincided with his first return to Germany since joining Overwatch.

Since he lost his dearest friend.

Reinhardt sighed, rubbing his hand thrown his grey hair as he stared into the nearby mirror, his face dropping into a sad visage that so well complimented the scar that covered nearly half his face. That scar that had turned him into a man, he thought; perhaps that was the moment where his middle years had begun.

He lowered his head, looking at Ana's uniform, which had been neatly folded up and placed over top of a chair, ready to be yanked on were anything to happen. Balderich had given him everything; not only Overwatch, but this woman, as well, who was now his entire world. He thought it so unfair, having been the one left alive.

It was a thought that ran across his mind so very often, now, especially now that he was teetering so close to retirement. Had he done enough to make his mentor's sacrifice worthwhile?

He shook his head to clear his mind of these dark thoughts that always ate at him, sitting down once again to complete order breakfast for the two, thinking again of Ana, who so simply eased his thoughts. He cleared his throat, picking up the receiver as he prepared to his boisterous self, trying his best to be as courteous as possible to whomever answered the phone.

He needed to remain strong, he knew.


	7. Dressing Rooms and Sudden Swoons

The collar of her suit nearly choked at Fareeha as she tried her best to work at the top-most collar of her shirt, her eyes squinting painfully until she finally snapped it in place, the material finally giving whatever leeway it could. It only slightly relaxed her, but it was still better then asphyxiation, she figured, with a groan.

She noticed her reflection in the fitting room mirror with a sidelong glance, turning to face herself with a frown as her eyes worked their way up and down her body. She turned to her side, examining her body's profile silently, running her hands up her torso, the both of them finally finding the small mounds at her chest that had been covered beneath her layers of clothing.

She sighed, reminiscing on her very first night in Angela's company and how, even then, the good doctor had figured enough that she preferred suits, though now that she was in a relationship, Fareeha had noticed how self-consciously she looked at herself, even beyond her morning routine. She wondered if Angela would enjoy having a beautiful woman at her arm as much as she, herself, did, and her brow furrowed in worry at the thought that she was depriving the love of her life of anything. She didn't hate dresses, though her mother had always been far too concerned with practicality, and with her muscles, anyway, Fareeha always figured that suits simply fit her better.

"Hey," she suddenly heard Angela's voice from the next room over, "You ready?"

Fareeha sighed, longingly, to herself, "Yeah, I guess."

"Alright," Angela muttered, with a certain unsurely air of her own, "Well, let's check them out."

Her lips pursed, Fareeha breathed deeply as she turned to the door, giving herself another glance in the mirror before pushing open the door and taking a step out. She turned, finding Angela having taken a slightly longer time in exiting her dressing room, though, as Fareeha just caught a glimpse of her dress underneath the door, her mouth began to drop.

Angela took a step beyond the door, blushing nervously, still clutching onto the door, even, as she revealed herself, keeping her face lowered in an attempt to hide her nerves, "Y-You know I don't like showing this much skin."

'This much skin' was just an exposed shoulder, Fareeha quickly noticed. Angela had adorned her body with a mysteriously black dress that rained down into a demure shade of blue at its bottom, the two color coming together in an elegantly dark fade of noir. The top so fluidly wrapped tightly against the doctor's skin, up only one shoulder, leaving the other exposed, and as she slowly spun around to offer Fareeha a complete look, the niveous skin of her back was wrapped with a fierce collection of material.

"Wow…" Fareeha spoke up, almost as if she'd been lost for fifteen days and having now seen food for the first time, but ultimately trailing off in her awe.

"Quit- Stop looking at me," Angela complained, lightly, still with a massive blush.

Fareeha smiled, " _You_ chose it."

Angela groaned, rolling her eyes as she quickly adjusted the subject, "W-Well, what about you! Looking all regal in that- Well…"

She frowned as she quickly walked up toward Fareeha's wide frame, reaching up to adjust her blazer, "I don't really care how it fits, but… You know what, stick this in the 'maybe' collection and we'll move on."

Fareeha sighed, "Okay."

Replying in kind, Angela pulled herself closer into her lover's chest, stretching her arms out and into a hug, "I'm sorry, babe. Look, you put up with me for another hour and we'll go to wherever you want for lunch, alright?"

Grinning, Fareeha answered, "Even 'Wok This Way'?"

"Yes," Angela nodded, drolly, "Even there…"

Fareeha grinned childishly as Angela pulled away, the soldier quickly hopping back into the dressing room with a renewed vigor as she carefully began to undress, eyeing the remaining suits that Angela had given her to try on. Her energy quickly faded as she frowned, wondering why Angela hadn't even bothered with dresses, even though she knew the doctor had no reason to do so, given her previous tastes.

Still, a thought crept into Fareeha's mind. She lifted her body up from having bent down, staring at the door, her eyes narrowing seriously as she neared the handle, slowly opening the door and making sure Angela had returned as well before quietly tip-toeing out from the dressing rooms and back into the main storefront.

* * *

Meanwhile, Angela was knee-deep in her next dress, grumbling quietly to herself as she forced the outfit onto her body, shaking her head in displeasure as her eyes battled their way toward the mirror, her lips frowning the entire way. She stood up straight, lips to the side, rolling her eyes at the sight.

She wanted nothing more than to move along, but she did have a deal with Fareeha, who wanted to see her everything she tried on- like switching a gorgeous painting from one frame to another, Fareeha enjoyed finding what suited her, and what didn't, in her own eyes, even if she never admitted not liking a dress unless Angela clearly didn't herself. The doctor would even try and trick her on occasion, though this dress had turned out to be so garish, she thought, nobody would have believed her if she'd 'liked' it.

Silently releasing a sigh, she looked up toward the top of the partition between the two's rooms, speaking up, lowly, "Ready?"

"N-No! Not- Not yet!" came Fareeha's voice, with an uncharacteristic nervousness.

Angela's eyes fell suspiciously, and she took a few steps back, leaning over to peer beneath the partition, though she could see anything. Her lips turned up curiously, wondering where Fareeha's nerves had come from; she couldn't remember picking anything out that might have elicited such a response.

She heard a quiet sort of hyperventilation from the other dressing room, and after a moment, Fareeha spoke up herself, unsurely, "O-Okay…"

Despite her gaudy dress, Angela's mind had left her own personage and she quickly darted out from her room, immediately gluing her eyes onto the adjoining door, hopefully awaiting Fareeha's exit. Had she'd mix-and-matched something she, herself, thought would have looked good? She hadn't ever exhibited much of a stylistic taste, though Angela was rather curious with what she might have come up with. She'd only taken charge in these situations because Fareeha, whose attire often included sweats and tank-tops, allowed her to do so. Perhaps she had taken an interest after that reaction to Angela's last dress?

Her door slowly crept open, Angela's eyes lowered peculiarly as she awaited her exit. The first thing that popped out was Fareeha's head, her face an absolute mess of anxiety, though her shoulder exposed itself enough that Angela could tell she had gone and found a dress.

"Wow," Angela noted in surprise, smiling, "Did you go with something new?"

Fareeha bit her lip, "W-Well, I just wanted you to- I mean…"

She trailed off as Angela's head tilting in confusion, though after a quick exhalation, Fareeha simply shut her eyes and stepped out from behind the door, throwing caution into the wind, hoping beyond all hope that Angela wouldn't throw it right back at her.

Encased in darkness, Fareeha heard nothing from Angela. She hadn't heard anything, at that; no footsteps, none of the fabric of her own dress rustling as Angela moved her arms. In fact, as she thought of it more and more, she found that she couldn't even heard Angela breathing.

She had gone and found a positively elegant black dress that was mostly transparent, save for some delicately placed vines of shapes that curved symmetrically up her skirt and swirled delicately over her chest, though the major point was the feathery material that worked its way around her hips, taking attention off of her muscles, which was possibly the point, Angela thought.

Her eyes still closed, Fareeha finally heard Angela take a breath, though it was quickly followed by footsteps. Angela quickly took a hold of Fareeha's arm, the soldier's eyes flying open in surprise as Angela's eyes worked their way up down her body.

"O-Okay," muttered Angela, listlessly, "We'll, uh- You need to take it off right now."

"W-Why?" Fareeha stammered, worriedly, "I knew I was terrible at this, but-.

"No!" Angela's head shook as fast as ever, "No! No, it's perfect; but I mean-"

She had managed to push Fareeha back into her dressing room, following along as her hands still grasped onto her, "You look positively gorgeous, Fareeha! I just don't think- I don't want to- Uh…"

Fareeha smirked, mischievously, "You don't want to share me?"

"Well, n-not looking like _this_ , anyway," Angela replied, the initial shock having worn off, giving her the chance to properly appraise the demure material that had been wrapped around her lover.

She tugged at a piece up by her shoulder, earning a soft explanation from Fareeha, "Yeah, with me being by myself, I might not have gotten it right. I couldn't even get the zipper up all the way."

Angela spun her around, her eyes growing in surprise at the sight. She couldn't remember having ever seen her in a dress before, and whenever she usually noticed Fareeha's bare back, it wasn't often at all. With the dress so delicately working atop of the curving shape before her, Angela nearly gulped as she reached out to complete the zipper's journey.

"We're you trying something new? or just trying to get me bothered?" Angela asked, lightly.

Fareeha grinned, "A little bit of both, I suppose."

"Mission fucking accomplished," Angela replied, breathlessly, "Let's get this one, but- uh, keep it for special occasions. You can get something else for the party."

Fareeha's face appeared over her shoulder, still smirking, "Isn't this party a special occa-"

"Just hush," Angela interrupted, annoyingly, as Fareeha gave a soft laugh.


	8. What You Signed Up For

"You think you know an AI, you know," Winston complained, still chewing on the massive bite of hamburger he had taken, turned toward Jack in conversation, "But Athena just decided to begin blaring alarms at three in the morning. When I asked about it, she said it was "just for kicks", so I know who's behind that."

He had gestured mightily with his hand in accusation, sending lettuce and tomatoes flying across the table and onto Jesse's plate, the cowboy's slowly lifting his head to leer at the large beast, Winston completely unaware as he continued, "Other than that, the Watchpoint's been fine."

Jack nodded appreciatively at his explanation, eyeing a stray olive on his plate, groaning lazily, "I told 'em no olives."

He shook his head, and without looking up, simply took the olive and tossed it into the air, the tin fruit just happening to fall onto Jesse's plate, which forced his face to turn slightly, allowing him to leer at Jack, now.

The three of them had stopped somewhere in the Midwest for a bite to eat, the night quickly approaching and the group in need of sleep. Winston had decided on St. Louis, and now they were all situated in a small diner for dinner, the day having taken quite a toll on all but Winston, who was chipper as always.

Not much conversation had taken place in the truck, mostly due to Jack and Jesse both not speaking to one another, so Winston simply listened to whatever 'zydeco' music was while they all pattered through the United States. Now that Winston could see their faces, he was far more talkative, though, as they'd sat longer and longer, he slowly began to notice all of the stares toward him.

"I don't know what they're so weirded out about," Winston uttered, self-conciously, as he leaned down low toward his plate, "They give robots human rights; you'd think they'd be fine seeing anything with a pulse."

Jesse took the stray olive and dropped it onto a napkin, "Are we about ta' get lectured by an ape about _human_ rights?"

Winston chuckled lightheartedly, shaking his head, "No, no; don't worry. Just a thought I had."

"A man comes face to face with his thoughts out on the open road, friend," Jesse spoke up, leaning back in his seat, "When it's just you and the road, y'know; you confront certain demons that you otherwise escape from in yer daily life."

Winston nodded, skeptically, "I suppose so. I did come to think about my first-"

"Old man," Jesse continued, eyeing Jack, who shot back a low stare of his own, "Got any of those. Demons, I mean."

Jack shook his head, picking at the plain edge of a nacho from the center of his plate, "No more than any other man."

"Hmm," Jesse mused under his breath, "I wonder about that."

The cowboy adjusted himself in his seat before pushing his body out so that he made his way up to his feet, pulling his ornate hat down low over his face, "Tell ya what; we passed by a grocery store on the way up here. I'll pay it a visit; you two need anything?"

Winston nodded, reaching into a pocket, "Actually, if they have some gum, I'd take some. Goodness knows I'll have to keep myself awake."

Jesse rolled his eyes as Jack elbowed the beast beside him, "Oh, quit that. We're not going to have you driving non-stop. We may be bitter men, but we're not children. We'll manage without killing each other."

Winston turned to him, curiously, before looking up at Jesse, who nodded, "C'mon, partner; we just have a few disagreements is all. I'm sure he and I can agree on some stuff, like, uh…"

His hand visibly fiddled around in his pocket, catching Jack's attention, the old man groaning as he rolled his eyes while Jesse went on, "I don't know; cigarette brands-"

Jesse swung his foot beneath the table, serving a swift kick at Jack, who stifled a painful groan before reaching into his pocket, taking out a few dollar bills to hand to the cowboy. Winston had seen the entire exchange with a face of pure skepticism, though he didn't say anything as he observed the odd behavior.

"We can agree on certain, chocolaty breakfast toppings too, I suppose," Jesse nodded, shoving Jack's half of the funds for Winston's present into his pocket as he turned to leave, "You two take care; I'll be back."

He gave the two a salute as he walked out, leaving Winston with a curious stare toward Jack, the old man lowering his head in preparation for questioning, which Winston immediately obliged, "So, uh, what was that about?"

"Nothing," Jack answered, easily, "We had a bet going on is all."

Winston's lips spun into a curl, curiously, as he returned to his meal, simply continuing to eat, Jack doing the same as he leaned over his plate, poking around for another clear edge of a chip as he spoke up, "He and I never really got along, you know."

"Oh, _really_?" Winston answered, seething with sarcasm.

"He always answered to Reyes and Blackwatch, so it's no wonder he looks disparagingly at me," Jack admitted, unshakably, "Part of me wondered if this wasn't all a ploy by Trace to get the two of us on friendlier terms, what, after that symposium we held a few months ago."

"Ugh," Winston groaned, painfully, " What was- 'Initiative to Initiate the Initiated'. All about friendliness toward your associate. Lena did seem to take it to heart rather quickly."

Jack nodded, "Exactly. I know that team always saw me in a negative light, so I understand-"

"Jack," Winston interrupted, turning toward him, "You didn't ask for anything you happened to receive."

The old man rested his elbows onto the table, foregoing his meal as he thought for a moment, shaking his head, "I still received, though. McCree and Reyes, everybody in Blackwatch; all that happened to them- everything was taken from them."

"It's what they signed up for," Winston reminded, calmly, "Whether or not Jesse's bitter, he agreed to take on that hurt. You took on plenty, yourself; no statue could change that."

Jack peered off into the distance, unfazed by the faces that were turned back toward him in an effort to catch a glimpse of the massive gorilla sitting beside him. He gripped his mug with two fingers, bringing it up to his lips for a sip of coffee without his head moving an inch.

* * *

Jesse stepped out of the convenience store, reaching up to grip the edge of his large hat, pulling it back down over his face as he turned to return to the diner. He pulled the bag up closer to him, reaching in to rummage through its contents, making sure it included gum and a few jars of peanut butter-chocolate spread, otherwise known as 'Tracer's Important Stash' that was to be taken to London and transformed into Winston's Christmas present.

The cowboy groaned bemusedly as he walked, wondering aloud to himself, "Who cares if it's a secret that it's traveled alongside him? Sheesh, girl…"

He shook his head in disbelief as his boots trudged along the ground beneath him, scooting up dust in his wake with every step. As his body faded into the distance, another collection of footsteps followed behind him, owned by a scraggily band of street toughs, seeking their next score. Their leader eyed Jesse's finely-kept mantle with a curiously evil stare, waving his compadres to follow along after the man.


	9. Beneath the Tree

Lena's teeth clenched angrily as her voice rumbled in her throat, almost in a dull growl, her hands wrapped tightly around a tin, pulling mightily against the grip of the middle-aged man across from her, his own voice rumbling into disjointed roars with every tug.

"LET…GO!" Lena shouted, angrily, yanking at the large tin, the contents jumbling about inside, loudly.

"N-NO!" the man argued back, " _YOU_ …LET…GO!"

This tug of war went on for a while as Lena fought valiantly, her eyes furiously staring at the man who was battling her, both their hands jockeying for position along the slick surface of the tin. Suddenly, Lena's eyes flickered for just a moment, noticing a flash of scarlet hair down near another aisle as Emily hopped into the air of the crowded store, trying to hunt for her partner. In that instant of lost focus, however, the man gave an immediately tug, freeing the large tin from Lena's hands as she desperately leapt toward him, her face lost in a terrified expression.

As she flew through the air, just a moment before she was able to wrap her arms around the man, Emily's hand shot toward her, her arm wrapping around Lena's waist and pulling her back down to the ground, the man now lost within the sea of bodies.

Lena angrily snapped her fingers, "Son of a-! Urgh! I almost had him, too!"

Emily sighed, reining Lena in, "What were you two even fighting over? It looked like you were going in for the kill!"

Shrugging, Lena answered simply, "Just those Scottish cookies that Jack likes. You only can get 'em during the holidays, and that- Argh! That tosser just came up and took it from me!"

Emily ran her hand through her hair, exasperatingly, "Okay, we can go hunt another one down later; it's not like we have the party tomorrow or anything. Did you get everything else on the list?"

Lena's body jolted up in surprise, her face growing pale rather quickly as she shoved her hands deep into her sweater's pockets, hanging her head low, "Uhh…no."

"Okay, well we'll just-"

The intercom blared above them, interrupting her with a droll, monotone voice, "The store will be closing in one- Oh, well look at that… We're closed…"

Emily nodded in acceptance, "Well, we'll just shop online for stuff in the meantime, then. Tomorrow, we have to go pick out a turkey for the party dinner, start the exterior decorations, and then the day afterwards, we need to take the donation boxes over to the hospital and then make sure our outfits for the party are up to snuff and then-"

Lena scooted up toward her as the current of people went along down the aisle on either side of them, her face smiling softly at the tired expression on her lover's face, "C'mon, why are you treating this like some big deal? It's just a party!"

"I know," Emily groaned, "I just want to, you know, make it a good time for all of your friends. I'm sure they all have much more exciting things to do than hang out in some run-down flat in London so close to Christmas night, but-"

Lena yanked her hands out of her pockets and reached out toward Emily, shoving them in her sweater's pockets instead, pulling her closer now that the crowd had passed the two of them, "Look at you, pretending like you're some homebody wife. Trust me, love; if I'm involved, they all already know to expect the preparation skills of a last-second schedule change."

Smiling, Emily sighed, "I still want it to look nice."

"Alright," Lena nodded, "I'm just saying to quit running yourself thin over it."

Emily's hands slowly reached up themselves as she sighed a final time, a faint smile reaching across her face while her hands mimicked Lena's as they found their way into her sweater, "Alright. But presents are a must! I won't have anybody going- What's this?"

Lena's eyes flew wide once again as Emily yanked the object out from her pocket, examining it as she held up high above her head where Lena couldn't retrieve it, "This is… Oh."

The pilot groaned, sarcastically, "…surpriiiise…"

Emily's arms quickly fell to her sides in defeat, frowning as she slowly reached over to hug her partner, "I'm sorry dear. I thought it was something you were sneaking out so you get back at your doctor."

"Of course not!" Lena complained, grabbing at the set of vouchers, "I'd never spend the city square tree unveiling with anybody but you! Silent nights are not for revenge, anyway."

The intercom blared once again, "Clooooooooosed…"

Lena quickly grabbed Emily's hand and started off toward the front of the door, "C'mon! If we're not getting presents, we're at least going to get a fun night out!"

Emily tried her best to keep up without tripping over her own two feet, though she could only smile at the high spirits that had captivated her the first time she'd met her. It hadn't just been tonight, but on so many occasions, Lena would simply whisk her away into some wild adventure around town, without any sign or warning. Most of the time, Emily simply couldn't help but fall in love, all over again, despite her repeated returns to childishness. She knew she would slow down when she needed to for her.

* * *

The giant silhouette of a fir tree stood right at the center of the city's square, surrounded by so many townspeople as well as so many visitors from afar. They had come to watch it light up, which was an event many families enjoyed, though this year, Lena and Emily had found their way here. After quickly turning in the vouchers, Lena excitedly led the way into the town square, the two unable to find a seat, so they simply found a small nook in between some of the buildings surrounding the massive tree to stand at.

"I've always wanted to see the tree light up!" Lena proclaimed to Emily, excitedly

She wrapped her arms around Emily from behind, gently pulling her back up against her body so that she could rest her chin atop her shoulder, managing to reach down just enough to give her a peck at the cheek, causing Emily to giggle, albeit with a twinge of nervousness.

"Cut it out; not in public!" she squeaked as Lena went along hunting for another kiss.

Lena grinned, "Why not? There aren't any hearths around here; we must allow our sweet offerings of warm hearted gestures to keep everybody warm!"

"I don't think so," Emily replied, playfully, trying to spin around to be able to confront her partner, though Lena forcefully increased her arms' grip, keeping her back against her.

"Now, now," Lena muttered, suggestively, "Next time you pay for our admission into something, _you_ can decide our pose and what we do. You're mine until this tree goes up!"

Emily nodded, knowingly, "Ah haaa, so thaaaat's your ultimate goal."

"Nah," Lena shook her head, her face running against the back of Emily's shoulder, "You have too much clothes on in this cold to speak of 'ultimate goals'. I just thought you looked rather pretty in your winter attire and I wanted to show you off."

"Really," Emily muttered in reply, disbelievingly, "See, I don't think you're being truthful there."

"Hmm," Lena hummed, thinking aloud, though only for a moment or two, "Maaaaybe…"

She quickly pulled her hand up Emily's body, hastily digging it into her side and having it squirm against her ribs, Emily's body immediately swinging low to the side as she burst out into laughter, desperately trying to back away from the tickling that Lena was forcing onto her with an evil smirk.

"S-Stop!" Emily managed through her laughter, though Lena remained strong in her grip with her other arm.

In between squirms, Lena teasingly whispered into her ear, "Maybe I…just wanted…to have a…little fun…with my girlfriend!"

Finally having worked her way free, Emily slid away against the wall of the nearby building, still fighting a few remaining gasps of laughter as Lena proudly crossed her arms like a superhero, "That was for the time you snuck the prize out of my cereal!"

"W-What?!" Emily replied with a smile brought on by the last remnants of her laughter, "It was, like, the middle of the night! That was when we were up late watching stuff; I couldn't get up and disturb you, so I just borrowed your bowl and the cereal stuff you'd brought over to the coffee table."

"A likely story," Lena nodded, feigning suspicion as she approached Emily, who immediately recoiled with a preemptive smile.

"Don't you do it!" Emily giggled as Lena pounced toward her, relinquishing Emily to a quick state of darkness as she shut her eyes in preparation.

The tickles didn't resume, however. Lena had, indeed, pounced, but had simply wrapped her arms around Emily's body and pulled her into her own, allowing her head to dig itself into the front of her shoulder this time around, happily rubbing her face against her woolen sweater.

Emily opened her eyes, grinning sweetly down at the woman who held onto her, returning the hug with her own tight arms, "I swear, love."

"That's my word," Lena complained, lightly.

"Oh, hush," Emily retorted, softly, with a smile.

They remained still for a few moments, Lena remaining contented in the arms of her lover, her soft voice finally emerging, only slightly muffled, "I love how warm you are."

Emily rolled her eyes, "I think that's more to do with my sweater than anything."

"No, you're warm when you're nude as well," Lena easily explained, wholly catching her off guard.

Now happy that she wasn't being watched, Emily could only blush at the thought, burying her own head down atop Lena's, her face buried in the mound of sweetly-smelling hair below. Lena must have felt her smiling, because she shifted around as she began to speak up.

"What?" she wondered, curiously.

Emily only pulled back, reaching up to squeeze her hand in between her chest and Lena's face, softly grasping her chin to lift up so that their eyes could meet, easily, as Emily spoke up, "Nothing. You're just too sweet sometimes."

"Baaah," Lena frowned, "Here I was trying to be cool…"

Shaking her head, Emily immediately replied, "I don't think you exactly know what 'cool' is if this is your definition of it."

Lena growled under her breath, upset, though Emily rushed to 'shush' her with pursed lips before reaching her face down to kiss the woman she so dearly loved, "I love you."

"Rrrr…" Lena frowned, "Now _you're_ being adorable…"

Emily grinned delightfully, her attention suddenly stolen away as the people nearest the tree began counting down, "Ten! Nine!"

The two spun into place, though while Emily tried holding onto Lena from behind, the pilot immediately swinging back around to grapple her red-haired maiden instead, "Nuh uh! My turn, remember?"

Emily only grinned up at her over her shoulder, the two's eyes meeting one another's as the countdown continued.

"Five!"

"Four!"

"Three!"

"Two!"

And in that instant, both pairs of eyes closed as Lena reached down, their lips meeting in a gentle, prolonged kiss, the two losing themselves in the warmth of each other as the crowd cheered from somewhere out in space. The gigantic tree blew up into a crescendo of wondrous lights, translating only as a soft eminence of light against the two's closed eyes.

As the crowd noise dampened, Lena softly pulled away, their eyes seemingly in sync as they appeared simultaneously, Emily's pair shaking as they met Lena's still, confident eyes.

"I thought you wanted to see them," Emily wondered, listlessly.

Lena smirked, "I always want to do that to you more than anything, though."

Emily shook her head, "What am I going to-"

"Deposit all 'too adorable' kisses riiiight here," Lena happily directed, pointing to her cheek with an outstretched finger, "And don't forget to pay interest, either!"

Emily's eyes rolled as her face fell forward into Lena's chest, the two of them sharing a quick, sweet laugh beneath the gentle glow of lights behind them.


	10. Inta' Dodge

Jesse had known he was being followed for most of his walk back, though without turning around, he couldn't be sure who it was or how many people it might have been. The area had become pretty shady in general since the Omnic Crisis, though it hadn't been much of a thought for three men of Overwatch. Still, Jesse knew that, alone, he could easily be pegged as a target, though his pride outshined his rationale.

As the diner came into view, he quickly noticed Lucille still sitting in the parking lot, offering him some ease of mind, knowing Winston and Jack were still inside, and while he kept his destination vague, not wanting the following patters of footsteps to jump him in a desperate attempt to keep him outside. At the last possible moment, however, he gently shifted his direction, making his way up toward the small patio section of the diner, keeping his head down as he pulled the door open, the dusty quiet of the outdoors suddenly exploding into hoots and hollers from inside the restaurant.

Jack immediately noticed him, examining the bag in his hand before returning his attention to his drink, listening further to Winston's goings on. Jesse made his way to the table, forcefully slamming the concealed bag of jars onto the table, making sure to keep his hat down over his face as he shoved his hand into his pocket, hidden underneath his shawl.

He didn't move as the diner's doors opened alongside the gently ringing of the bell above, Jesse's voice remaining low, "I have to use the restroom. Watch those guys coming in; they're trouble."

Under the guise of peering up toward his companion, Jack's eyes, instead, ran to the door, his voice replying lowly, "I count five of 'em."

Winston leaned forward, "What are we counting?"

Jesse sighed, "Well, he'll be good for intimidatin', if anything. I'll watch the doors."

Jack nodded as Jesse started off toward the back, the old man's hand slowly sliding off the table and down toward his holster, Winston finally understanding the situation as he muttered, weakly, "S-Seriously? You know I don't do field work!"

"Shut up and calm down," Jack replied, seething, as he leaned down over his mug of coffee, "Hopefully they won't have business with us."

Winston's teeth chattered nervously as he did the same, running a paw through the hair above his head, "Oh no, oh no, oh no; I'm gonna get pistol-whipped again!"

"Hush," Jack repeated as the five bodies started separating, each one taking stock of the restaurant, almost invisible as the patrons of the restaurant simply went on with their lives.

The most bruising of the group passed their table, giving Jack a soft sigh of relief, his hand reaching over to pull the bag closer toward him, "Well that was a bit too close. They don't have business with some guys just skipping through town."

Winston sighed heavily, shaking his head, "Thank goodness. I've been on the receiving end of one too many- Hey, what's in the bag?"

"Your gum and whatever else he got," Jack shrugged, "What's it to either of us?"

"Aren't you the least bit curious?" Winston teased, giddily.

Jack shook his head, "With all the drinking he does, it could be any assortment of booze; how should I know? Just be happy it isn't a stalk of bananas or something."

Winston suddenly began chuckling deeply, clutching at his stomach as his head lowered, shaking back and forth at the joke. Jack frowned at his superior's ease to laughter, though he only huffed in displeasure as he reached down to his mug once again, raising it up for another sip.

In one blistering moment, a massive pain shot through his face as a daze flew through him, his body going numb. The bruiser had returned from behind him, and in a swift movement, had grabbed a tuft of his hair and slammed it right into the table, through his mug, shattering the vessel, as the gangster rushed another hand over to take ahold of the grocery bag, immediately taking off for the door.

Winston bolted up in shock, staring at Jack's still body for a moment before whipping his body around in the booth, watching the large, clothed man making a mad dash to the doors. Suddenly, a loud *BANG* rang through the restaurant, blistering through everybody's ears, as the gangster slid to a stop, nearly falling backward, as he whipped his neck toward the kitchen.

Jesse stood there, aiming his six-shooter right at him, his large hat hanging low, "I dare ya. Take another step with my stuff."

The bruiser's teeth bared themselves fiercely as Jesse took a step in his direction, his gun still held out, aiming toward him from the hip, "Now, I won't kill ya if you just-"

Jack's body arose lankily as his consciousness returned, slowly, in a rush of endorphins and morphine that encapsulated his brain. He was very familiar with the feeling; the bursts had escalated in these last few years, and with him losing consciousness, the chemicals burst repeatedly, a silent attempt to return him to life.

His eyes broke open, revealing two blood-shot eyes, just noticing the black-clad body that was approaching Jesse from behind, one of the five. Jack held back the urge to shout out in warning, instead reaching down for his own firearm, his vision hazy as he jerked his hand up, aiming at nothing but white fuzziness before him.

Jack's teeth clenched angrily, trying to clear his mind, but in that moment, the body whipped around Jesse, throwing a tremendous kick up at his hand, knocking out his gun in a short daze, Jesse quickly spinning to meet the newcomer. The body leapt at him, kneeing him in the jaw while pouncing over the bar of the restaurant, where the man with the grocery sack was already hurrying out.

Jesse cursed under his breath as he returned to his feet, hopping over the bar and dashing toward his gun before pursuing the gang, madly making his way through the doors. Jack grumbled lowly as he pushed himself out from the booth, the morphine in his blood finally evening off as he began to run after Jesse, desperately clutching at his gun, leaving Winston in his seat, more horrified than most of the diner's guests.

With both men having disappeared, however, he did his best to escape the deep seat of the booth, rolling around toward the outside as he complained, lightly, "I didn't sign up for this!"

* * *

Jesse's feet slid to a stop as he came to a crossroads, his head turning left and right, unable to figure out with of the two paths to go down. He grunted angrily, ripping his hat off of his head and throwing it at the ground, his arms shaking as his insides trembled, enraged. As he heard quick footsteps behind him, he quickly spun around, but came to a stop upon noticing Jack there, his own legs slowing to a stop.

"God damn it!" Jesse shouted, shaking his head, turning back down one of the two paths.

Jack eyed him seriously, "You through? If we're gonna spilt up, we have to do it now; my body's gonna adjust to the morphine soon enough and I'll be worthless. Unless you're worried about-"

"Of COURSE I'm worried!" Jesse roared, angrily, stepping up toward Jack with seething teeth, pointing out into some unknown distance, "If WE don't bring that bag back, THAT girl will-!"

He angrily spun away, shaking his head as he grabbed his hat from the ground, shoving it back atop his head before pointing back toward Jack, "You'd better wish we find 'em!"

"So it's _my_ fault?" Jack argued, calmly, "Boy, I didn't let a group of scraggily-ass kids back with me anywhere."

"You were supposed to have my back!" Jesse accused, angrily still, "You let your eyes of 'em for _one_ second!"

Jack's shoulders sunk as his head rolled around his shoulders, sarcastically, "Oh, my apologies, kid; I guess something got lost in the translation."

Jesse had begun to calm down after expelling so much energy, shoving his hands into his pockets as he stared down one of the paths, staring off into the distance as Jack spoke up, "I don't want to know what Tracer will do, either, if we don't get this stuff back to her. If we don't have a common enemy to rally against, we, at least, have a common ally to rally against, alright? Let's just get through this, find her stuff, and get the hell outta Dodge."

The cowboy's eyes rolled, "Despite stealin' my verbiage, I guess I'm game. Looks like I'm not the only one agreein' with ya, either."

He pointed back to where the two had come from, Jack turning to find good ol' Lucille traversing the dusty road to approach the two of them, Winston behind the wheel with a very panicked look on his face, though it faded quickly enough as he saw the two of them. The wheels of the truck shot the sound of crumbling rocks through the air as it slowed to a stop, Winston poking his head out of the window.

"We're splitting up," Jack ordered, "Jesse, you can cover more ground on foot, so I'll take Winston down this way with me. There's also less cover this way; God forbid, were I in need of cover…"

He gently stroked the metal structure of Lucille as Jesse nodded, looking off into the distance, his hand gently pulling itself from his pocket and reaching for his secondary sidearm. His fingers stroked its handle for a moment as he thought, though he quickly yanked it from the holster, whipping it around his finger before grabbing its barrel, handing it to Jack, who stared back at him, unamused by his demonstration.

"Fancy," Jack nodded sarcastically, though Jesse's eyes rolled in reply.

"Just take it," the cowboy groaned, "I have another. And you like those shit guns that hit everything but your target, dead-on. You'll need something that can take an eye off an armadillo."

Jack shrugged, "I thought my cataracts got in the way."

"Shut up and accept the courtesy," Jesse growled, "I'd rather have you aiming around cover _and_ cataracts than most people with neither. Just spare me the insults."

Winston's chuckling stole the two men's attention as they both turned to him, the ape grinning amusedly, "What _did_ you two have in there? It's causing quite the tizzy, don't you think?"

"Merry Christmas" "Merry Fuckin' Christmas," the two men replied, drolly, in unison.


	11. At Home With the Lindholms

A/N: Trying to figure out/come up with Torbjorn's family has been quite the chore. I don't think even Blizzard knows beyond that 'Reflections' comic xD Take this storyline with a grain of salt, and if anything ever gets confirmed, come back and chuckle at how wrong I was :p

* * *

"Okay," Brigitte cheerfully muttered with a low voice, "So just so we're on the same page…"

The three of them had made it back to the home of Torbjörn Lindholm, one of the premiere weapons architects of the original Overwatch regime. Still in the trawler, the three huddled together near the furnace before heading into the home, Brigitte wanting to make sure everything was in order, seeing as how her freedom for the holiday was on the line.

"So, our key player is Jamison," she nodded, as Mei and Jamison himself both nodded, though the latter did it with a nervous movement, "Mother likes to dote on newcomers, so while she's getting to know Jamison, he'll do something to keep her attention off me, who will have already been banished to her room, still grounded. Then I'll sneak out back into the trawler; I'm pretty sure father won't have any issue with me tagging along, anyway; he'll just recount his own spunky youth or something."

"Awesome!" Mei shouted in reply turning to Jamieson as her shoulder leaned over to nudge his, "You're good with that, Jamie?"

He frowned in thought, "Well, about that, eh…'keeping her attention off you'…"

Brigitte lowered her gaze in thought, "I mean, you'll just have to be ready for anything, really. Some of my siblings are here, _their_ kids; I mean, we've got three generations of Lindholm running around in there; I know Mei said you were creative."

Jamison's shoulders fell, "So you want me ta' blow 'em up?!"

Brigitte leaned backward, frightfully, as Mei giggled, wrapping an arm around the man, "No, just- You'll have a lot of opportunities. Brigitte is good, herself; even if you're not able to pick up the slack, she'll find her way around it."

"Yeah, unless one of my siblings catches me," Brigitte groaned, "I swear, if Andenon sees me, he'll sell me out faster than those jävlar that burn down the Gävle Goat every chance they get!"

Mei wondered, quickly, "How many siblings do you-"

"Eight," Brigitte answered easily, "Andenon, me, Caileigh, Daelyn, Earvin, Faine, Gael, Hana, and Idris. Father likes to say he started sleeping outside on nights of the full moon, and that's how he learned to have boys later on."

Jamison rubbed his arms to warm them up, "Wait, some of those were boys names?"

Brigitte sighed, "Boy, girl, girl, girl, boy, boy, boy, girl, boy. Now let's get a move on! They heard us return; they're gonna get suspicious!"

Mei nodded as the three of them jumped up to their feet as Brigitte returned to the control panel to shut of the last remnants of power while Mei help Jamison complete his wrapping. She grabbed the last coat of his and helped his hands through the arms before reaching for one of his two scarves.

"Sorry," she muttered to him, half-heartedly, "I wasn't intending for you to put yourself out there like this."

"Ahh," Jamison shook his head, "It's no big deal, sheila. I'm happy ta help with you with anything; you know that. If it weren't for you, I don't even know where I'd be right now."

Mei grinned, "Probably not freezing to death."

He peered off, unsure, before nodding, "Well ya got me there! Don't worry about it; I'll be fine."

"Alright," Mei nodded with a smile, wrapping the top of his head with the first scarf, stopping just above his eyes before grabbing the second one, starting at his neck and working her way up.

She paused for a moment, earning a confused glance from Jamison as he smiled down at her, "What is it?"

"Nothing," she muttered, simply, "Just wanted to see that smile for a bit."

Jamison immediately felt his face burning with a sudden blush, though Mei grinned as she quickly covered the rest of his face, "That oughta keep you warm."

He couldn't nod through his nerves, but Mei quickly grabbed his arms and pulled him down lower so that she could kiss his closed eye, which was the only thing exposed by now. She let him return to his proper stance as the two of them heard a disgusted groan from Brigitte, who was finishing with yanking on her own coat.

"And mom says I'm missing out," she muttered, sarcastically, "Okay children, let's rock this puppy!"

She suddenly threw a kick into the door, launching it into the snowy air as it violently slammed against the metallic shell of the large snowmobile, allowing her to jump down into the soft snow below, turning to help the others do the same, catching Mei while helping Jamison crawl down the few bits of handles that weren't meant as a ladder.

"Watch out," Brigitte warned through her zipped up hoody, "With fourteen people here waiting for us, the house has-"

The door of the massive home blew open as a man, about Brigitte's age, suddenly flew out from its interior, stumbling to regain his footing as he slid off the porch, crashing into the snow. Another man ran to the door after him, clutching the door frame as he stopped, laughing heartily at the sight, shaking his head.

"C'mon, Gael! If you can't take that, how're you gonna make the team!" he shouted as the three newcomers walked up toward the porch, out of his sight.

The man digging his way out of the snow, Gael, stared at him angrily, "No. Pads! What'd you think would happen, jävla snorunge."

The young man at the door only chuckled to himself as he shook his head, finally noticing the three approaching him from the side, turning his head over his shoulder back into the house, "Mamma! Besökare!"

Brigitte stepped onto the porch, helping Mei up through the dense snow, before turning to her brother at the door, crossing her arms, "En liten hjälp, kanske?"

"What for?" he answered, teasingly, "Your coat hides your muscles, but I know they're there. Who're they?"

Groaning, Brigitte shook her head, "Look, there's, like, fifteen people here, I'm not going to do fifty introductions. We're going to get everybody together and _then_ I'll just do one introduction."

"Suit yourself," the man answered, shrugging, before giving a quick salute to the two visitors.

Suddenly, from out of nowhere, Gael had hopped back onto the porch and made a mad dash toward him, tackling him hard as the two flew back into the house, a loud *CRASH* breaking through the air as Brigitte groaned, turning toward her companions.

"See why I went traveling?" she sighed, drolly.

From out of nowhere, before the two could reply, a loud, deeply feminine voice tore through the house, "GAEL! FAINE!"

Brigitte groaned, "Well, meet mother, I suppose."

Jamison shared a quick glance toward Mei, who returned the same sort of worried expression, before Brigitte moved along, unzipping her hood as the three entered into the home. The two men were wrestling through the living room, having knocked over an end table and sending a lamp flying, which must have been the crash. Brigitte helped the two store their coats in a nearby closet before shooting around once her mother's stomping could be heard.

The middle-aged woman quickly pounced onto the two men who were fighting one another on the ground, the mother throwing punches herself as she shouted in Swedish. She quickly managed to get one of them onto their stomachs, using one arm to subdue them, while fending off the other young man with her other arm, quickly taking ahold of his collar and yanking him toward the ground before subduing him as well.

"Well?!" she shouted, "What do you two have to say for yourselves?!"

"Sorry." Sorry." they both answered, weakly, though their mother didn't release them.

She only growled back, "Now, you two are going to clean this mess up. The hockey team was supposed to expel your energy out on the ice, not in the house!"

"Yes." "Yes, mother." came two more weak replies.

Finally, the mother sighed in relief, using the two's bodies to push herself up to her feet, shaking her head in disbelief as she turned away, coming face to face with her visitors. She suddenly groaned, rolling her head around her shoulders before rubbing her face, approaching the tree with her head hung low.

"I do apologize," she spoke up, dejectedly, "Normally, our guests don't see that until much later."

"Oh, no!" Mei shouted, spiritedly, "You showed 'em what for! It was rather inspiring!"

The older woman grinned, "Well, if you _do_ say so. I'm sorry, I didn't get your names. I'm Odelia Lindholm, mother of the youth beside you who enjoys making me weep."

Brigitte rolled her eyes, though Mei went on as if nothing was out of the ordinary, "I'm Mei-Ling Zhou! but please just call me Mei, and this here is Jamison Fawkes! He's my assistant of sorts."

"Assistant?" Odelia wondered, wondrously, "So you're my husband's co-worker?"

"Yes indeed!" Mei shouted, happily, "Is the Torbmeister here?"

Odelia watched her, curiously, as Mei quickly jumped in shock, covering his mouth worriedly, remembering that such nicknames were often left at work, though she quickly pointed toward Jamison, nervously, "Uh- Jamie, here, works with us, too!"

"Really?" the older lady went along, giving Mei room for a relieved sigh, "And you two aren't wanting to take my dear, sweet, eldest daughter off like Wilhelm, are you?"

Thinking it to be too much to have her two companions lie so blatantly, Brigitte quickly spoke up, feigning worry, "Oh my goodness; Faine! Don't stick that glass into the fire!"

Her mother whipped around as Faine angrily shot a glare toward Brigitte, "What, are you daft?! What does it look like I'm-!"

Still, Odelia was in no mood to argue after the wrestling match, and she immediately charged toward the two young men on the ground, "I don't know, but I'm about to find out!"

Brigitte sighed, relieve, turning to Mei and Jamison with a shrug, "It's a dog-eat-dog world here. If I'm not throwing my siblings under the bus, they're throwing me under."

The two guests shared another glance, probably glad they neither of them had siblings of their own. Brigitte waved them along, deeper into the house as she led them toward the single door to the basement, which served as her father's workshop. They could even catch the sight of smoke emanating from beneath the door.

"Well, we know he's home," Brigitte sighed, reaching for the door handle, "He built a chimney down there, but he does so much, it doesn't handle all of what all he's-"

Suddenly, the door went flying, slamming as violently into the wall as the door to the trawler, a portly, thick leg emanating through the thick smoke before it pulled back into obscurity with a large *thump* against the ground. Brigitte took a step backward, slightly dazed by how close the door had been to hitting her, though she ultimately sighed as her father exited the basement, stomping along with blackened goggles, unable to see as he dusted himself off.

"WELL THAT DIDN'T WORK!" he yelled out, forcing Mei to cover her ears while Jamison recoiled in surprise.

The man pulled the earplugs from his ears and yanked off his goggles, his face immediately beaming in disbelief as he noticed Mei, his arms throwing themselves outward as he happily shouted, "Well if it ain't Mei best colleague! Come 'ere!"

Mei immediately jumped into his arms, the two sharing a hug as he happily shouted, "So good seeing you again! It's been so long!"

"Yeah, well…" Torbjörn groaned, "You know I was already on the outs of that organization before it was disbanded. After that, it just allowed me to seclude myself up here. It's been nice; I hadn't much of a chance to be with my family before then! Now, who's this?"

"J-Jamison Fawkes, sir!" he saluted, nervously, "Mei has so many stories about you, sir!"

Torbjörn eyed him, seriously, as Mei spoke up in explanation, "Ha ha, I told him about your exploits during the Omnic Crisis. He was rather thrilled with what you were able to do on the fly."

Jamison shook nervously as he asked, politely, "Is it true that you simply pounded metal into armor on the run and just outfitted your team by sticking it onto their bodies?!"

Torbjörn chuckled, "Well, ya make do with what ya can. It took a keen eye though; I had to mold what I had into my memories of everybody's body shape without them staying still. Thank goodness Wilhelm kept his armor; I shudder at _that_ thought…"

"Wooooow," Jamison marveled, his eyes glazing over at the sound of Torbjörn's tales.


	12. Cutting Deep

Fareeha bent down low, eyeing the baking cookies in the oven through the clear window, her face left with a serious expression as her eyes narrowed, carefully examining the warming pastries. Behind her, Amgela stood at the opposing counter, finishing up a plate of cheese and crackers, turning to watch Fareeha's intent posture.

"Why don't you just open it and look at them from a normal angle?" she inquired, curiously.

Fareeha sighed, "Because then they're not cooked evenly. and it takes longer. You keep the door closed- that's rule number one."

"Uh huh," Angela nodded, sarcastically, "And how many classes have you taken in bake shop?"

Fareeha stood up straight, crossing her arms and raising her head haughtily, "I'll have you know, I'm level twenty on Borden Damsey's 'Class of Masters' online video collection. As a visual learner, it's all I need to make wonderful dishes."

"Just as long as they're not teaching you how to set towels on fire," Angela replied, matter of factly.

"Hey, that wasn't my fault," Fareeha refuted, waving her arms in denial, "You tell me to flambé, I say how high. Just so happened to be high enough to catch the kitchen towels on fire."

"So you're blaming me?" Angela asked, a teasing glare escaping her eyes.

"I am, but, your humble servant," Fareeha declared, "We both know I'm the one who's reaching up beyond her league to have you."

Angela's teasing stare suddenly become one of confusion as Fareeha went on with a shrug, "I mean, it's not as if I'm complaining; I have a gorgeous lover who knows how to drug me with her very lips. I'm the happiest woman on earth."

Angela replied, "Do you know how condescending that sounds to me? You make it sound like I'm pitying you by being at your side."

"I'm not condescending," Fareeha shrugged once again, now nervously playing with her oven mitted hand, not expecting this can of worms to have been opened, "I know what I am. Parts of my body are more muscle than I have breasts, I wear my hair short; I spent so much time in the service, both in Egypt's and my mother's, that I know next to nothing when it comes to relationships. You can't tell me that, were we not together, you'd have a far greater lot in life."

Angela's glare hadn't wavered, though her eyes had shivered in frustration, listening to her lover's words. She turned back toward the counter, quietly pulling over a block of cheese before cutting it down into thin slices. Fareeha sighed, shaking her head with curved lips, quietly attempting to quell the nerves within her that spun like pinwheels.

"I thought you knew," was all Fareeha could finish with, scratching her arm nervously.

Angela didn't reply immediately, simply going along with her task, hey eyes shutting softly as she put on an expression of disdain, "Master chef, check the oven."

Fareeha ran over her words for a moment before jolting up in shock, her hands racing toward the oven, yanking it open, smelling the aroma of charred pastries before getting a chance to see with her own eyes. She groaned defeatedly, hanging her head low as she stood back up, looking toward Angela with a helpless look.

"What, are you blaming me again?" Angela asked, sarcastically, still cutting with eyes closed.

"Of course not," Fareeha sighed, reaching into the oven to grab ahold of the cookie sheet, now covered with near-black cookies, shaking her head dismissively, "Well, just another chance to-"

She suddenly heard a subtly gentle whimper from behind her, one of the painful sort. She whipped her head around, her eyes growing wide at the sight of blood trickling across the cutting board, flowing out from a nasty gash along Angela's hand. She dropped the knife onto the counter in shock as she eyed the strip of blood that ran along nearly the entire length of her palm, when suddenly, Fareeha bolted to her side, alongside the massive *CRASH* from the cookie sheet hitting the ground, quickly wrapping an arm around Angela and pulling her toward the sink, gently taking her lover's hand in both of hers with barely any regard for the blood pouring out from the vicious laceration.

Fareeha quickly ran her hand underneath the warm water, washing the redness away, keeping it beneath the faucet as she quickly reached over for a towel. Pulling her hand away, Fareeha immediately wrapped the thick towel around her hand before holding it between both of her hands, putting as much pressure as she felt comfortable with.

Still slightly in a daze, Angela's eyes glazed over at the sight, but slowly began to soften as she watched those two lovingly tanned hands encompassing her own, even if there was a towel between them. Her skin was so pale, she thought, when Fareeha's was so warm and full of life, the two shades complimenting each other so perfectly whenever their fingers managed to entwine with the other's.

Fareeha sighed quietly, leaning over in relief, suddenly notifying Angela to the fact that Fareeha was pretty much holding her from behind, a prominent blush coursing across her face. The soldier remained vigilant in her clutch, not stopping her pressure along Angela's hand, even though she knew, already, it was pretty much pointless. Still, she couldn't resist her instincts to act, she figured.

"I'm the one who's reaching," Angela quietly muttered, earning a pensive jolt from behind her as Fareeha looked down toward her.

"Huh?"

Angela lowered her head, "You knew this was pointless, yet it was all you could do to keep me safe…"

Fareeha didn't answer, though as the doctor slowly pulled her hand from in between hers, she loosened her grip. Angela's hand slid out from within the towel, revealing her palm without a scar, having already healed itself, completely, from within. Instead of returning her hand to her side, however, Angela took both hands and grasped Fareeha's, pulling them around herself in a gentle hug that Fareeha was quick to tighten, albeit subtly.

"When we met, _I_ was the cold one," Angela continued, almost in a whisper, "I wanted nobody; I didn't even bother speaking to my closest friends. I was lost in my work, doing what I could to forget all the pain I had caused."

She pushed herself back into Fareeha's body, "I might not have been dead physically, but by most other metrics…yeah. I wouldn't know life. Not as I do now. with you."

"You talk as if I'd have had my pick of the litter, when in reality, nobody could have possibly had me, regardless. Nobody but you," Angela went on, softly, allowing her eyes to well up with tears, though her voice remained steady, "You chose me, for whatever reasons. You took me, and had me, and when it came time for us to part, it was _you_ who clung on to me and gave me life again."

Fareeha's head bent lower, softly burying itself in her lover's softly glowing hair, as she went on, unable to hide an adorable sniffle, "People dream about having somebody so dependable as you. So strong, and- and secure. Somebody who would do what you just did, right then, even while knowing it ultimately didn't matter. Because it does, to me."

She went on, her voice as still as a gentle lake, "Somebody I can trust, without any doubt. It's so scary, offering so much of yourself, not knowing just how much, if anything, you'll receive in return. But with you, I- You show me, every day, that you love me as much in return. Just for that, dear, you're so far out of _my_ league."

They remained quiet for a moment, simply enjoying each other's warmth, though at some point, Angela's eyes suddenly coiled in unamusement, suddenly feeling Fareeha's body rumbling against her in silent chuckles.

"I apologize for opening up my heart to you," Angela muttered sarcastically.

"Come on," Fareeha laughed lightly, "Surely you see how fun it is for me to see you go from not knowing how to be stupidly cheesy when we first met to now, hearing you say what you just did."

Angela rolled her eyes, drolly, as she started to weakly pull away, sighing, "Just finish your cookies."

In an instant, Fareeha's arms tightened round her, yanking her back into place as the soldier forced her body to spin around, holding Angela beneath her lover's stare. Fareeha tilted toward her, moving her face closer with a smile as Angela gingerly leaned back over the counter. Her eyes met with Fareeha's, seeing those particularly intense eyes that she couldn't find a way to escape from.

"I thought it was pretty cute," Fareeha spoke, sweetly.

Between her stare and her words, Angela couldn't help but blush. She was rendered helpless by Fareeha's arms and her eyes, though she also felt inexplicably secure in being bound by the woman she had grown to love so dearly. It was such a deadly combination, as far as her senses went.

With the swiftness associated with such tactful acts, Fareeha swooped down to give Angela a kiss, letting her go as she turned around to pick up the cookies that had flown across the kitchen, "I'll start again if you want to get back to getting the movie ready. I'm not about to have you cutting up anything else tonight."

She smiled as she crouched down to grab at the charred pastries, catching Angela's voice as she spoke, "I'll go ahead and get the ornament ready."

She had spoken so softly, almost to the point of worrying Fareeha, though she was quick to dismiss it, knowing she had embarrassed her enough for the evening without pointing out her behavior. She simply began again on their snacks before reaching over to grab at the knife, seeing Angela's still covering a rather large amount of the blade. Fareeha's mind quickly thought back to the doctor's nano-machines, how even in death, she could be of aid to her companions.

Fareeha's eyes dropped, lowly, at the thought, thinking, again, of her own, slight meeting with death. How Angela might have felt by that careless betrayal of trust. Fareeha sighed in resolution as she stood up, simply going along with her previous task, albeit sadly.


	13. First Watch

-27 Years Ago-

-Stuttgart, Germany

Dark had fallen on this night of the new moon, leaving the landscape utterly barren and devoid of all light, save for the faint flickers of omnic mechanisms in the distance. Still early on in the crisis, these early omnic models still were chock full of LEDs and other sources of light, giving them away, easily, in the darkness. Having figured this out, the omnics would quiet down at night, though Overwatch and many of the local militias remained vigilant, just in case.

Among one of the towers that lined the streets of the once mighty city of Eichenwald, a small window, half-destroyed by explosions, opening up into a larger hole in the wall, revealed the shortest flicker of firelight, pulsating into various forms of brightness, the two shadows upon the walls beating like hearts, a reminder of what these two souls had that the enemy did not.

Reinhardt, just sent on his first assignment, had begged to return to his home upon his acceptance into Overwatch, a request that Gabrielle Adawe had reluctantly allowed. While she envisioned her Crusader recruit off helping the Russian contingency, she understood that Wilhelm had some demons to excuse in his replacing of his mentor, Balderich, into Overwatch's ranks.

So, after a few days of acclimation, here he was, alongside the rest of Overwatch's units, keeping watch while they strategized. In this dark tower, he sat in the corner, huddled up with his mighty hammer at his side, peering down into the streets below that he had once walked along with his Crusaders, reaching up to his eye in reminder of his actions that very well might have led to his mentor's death.

Across the room from him sat the veteran Overwatch agent, sent to help acclimate him further into their ranks. Ana Amari, a soldier who would have been so feared by their enemies, were they capable of such things. The sort of soldier that, in archaic days, would have bedtime stories told about them- ones of whimsy for the children of her side, but the material of nightmares for the others.

As Reinhardt sat at the other corner of the room, he stared at her in examination, no longer than any same man would dare. She was on lookout duty, and he on protection duty, were anything to arise, and while they had been put together for him to learn from her, the two spoke very little, if anything at all.

Reinhardt found her to be rather unimposing to the figure he had only heard tales of up until this point. She was dark, in attitude as well as looks; from his direction, all he could see was her jet black hair swaying against the most gentle of breezes as she say on the edge of the opening into the wall, one leg pulled up against her while the other hung over the edge, dangling back and forth, almost in a tight cadence.

"Boring, huh?" she muttered, surprising Reinhardt, simply because he had just realized he had forgotten what she had sounded like.

He quickly attempted to conjure up a sentence, though he only managed to stumble over his words, "From the- Uh, I mean…"

Ana's head pulled low, her face poking out from behind her arm as a single eye peeked through her hair toward him, "What is it?"

"N-Nothing," he replied, sighing, "Just a tad nervous, I'm afraid."

She shrugged, "It's rather normal."

"Yeah, that's what I was told during initiation, but I'm sure I'll manage. I always have," Reinhardt explained.

Ana's eyes narrowed slyly, "I meant it's normal to feel nervous in my presence."

"Oh," Reinhardt spoke up, weakly, shocked by her intensity, "In that case, I'm not entirely sure how I'll warm up to that."

She turned her head back out toward the distance before her, smirking wryly as she grasped her rifle without looking, sliding it across the floor and into her thigh, "As I was saying, are you bored?"

"Why do you ask?"

"That's the general emotion one has when they're just sitting there," Ana concluded, rising to her feet and swinging her weapon up I to her other hand, "You do any shooting?"

Reinhardt answered, "Some. Crusaders never really do that sort of thing; we give our bodies to those who shoot. A sort of self-sacrifice, I suppose."

"Hmm," Ana nodded, "You do not seek glory, then? Praise and worship; that usually goes to the ones pulling the trigger, correct?"

"True," Reinhardt admitted, "We Crusaders seek a different sort of glory, I suppose."

He heard a soft chuckle, his eyes slowly raising toward her just as her shoulders became still, her voice emerging simply, "You're quite young."

Reinhardt's eyes focused, suspiciously, "For not seeking my own vanity?"

Another chuckle, though without speaking, Ana reached an arm back toward him, waving him over without turning toward him. He acquiesced, turning his hammer's handle up to push himself up to his feet, groaning exhaustedly as he did so as if her request were quite a bore as well. He approached her from behind, rather surprised by how much smaller she was, despite having the far larger personality. She pointed into the distance as she held the butt of her rifle in her other hand, cradled up within the crick of her arm.

"See those lights? The distant ones that shimmer with an orange tint?"

Reinhardt's eyes squinted, though he quickly gave up, "My depth perception isn't what it used to be."

Ana nodded, though she still pointed into the distance, repeating herself, even matching her own inflections, "See those lights? The distant ones that-"

"I said-"

"I know what you said," Ana interrupted, her voice finally tinted with a severe emotion.

She pulled her rifle up into her shoulder, her eye peeking through its scope as her head fell forward slightly, "I don't pretend to believe these machines are unintelligent. They're truly advanced, and yet, even with their artificial intelligence, we humans have a particular advantage."

Reinhardt rested a clenched fist against his hip as he leaned against one leg, listening as Ana's entire body seemed to freeze, despite the cold air, as she whispered, "While we can infer, think ahead and simply learn from what we can expect, it takes a few missteps for _them_ to learn."

Suddenly, a massive *BANG* rang through the small room of the stone tower, the sound ricocheting in a raucous relay, forcing Reinhardt to recoil as he covered his ears, not having expected such a blistering noise just in front of him. His eyes squeezed shut in the recoil, and as he recovered quickly enough, he angrily turned to his partner.

"Goddamn!" he shouted, fiercely, "A little warming next time?!"

Without moving, Ana slid the rifle away from her shoulder, allowing it to fall down, swinging back and forth from her coiled finger along its trigger, her body slowly straightening out, "Sorry. It was about to duck away, I thought."

She then turned to Reinhardt, handing him the rifle beneath a suddenly confused glare from him as she spoke, "Those are observer bots. They haven't learned that the lights make them sitting ducks, and that some humans possess skills that defy our biology."

With Reinhardt not accepting the weapon, she spoke up, goadingly, "Your turn."

"I told you, I don't-"

She quickly tossed him the gun, his arms flailing as he hurriedly tried to catch it, nearly panicking, shouting as he recovered the airborne weapon, "Are you insane or something?!"

Ana only shrugged, "You'd better start, then. I'd hate to sign an order of recommendation for you to get transferred to human resources."

Reinhardt barred his teeth as he grimaced, shaking his head once he stretched out his feet to assume something of a firing stance, grumbling under his breath, "I swear to god, I- Ugh…"

Not replying, Ana only looking out into the distance as another orange light emerged, tilting left and right in some vague attempt to avoid fire. Reinhardt sighed impatiently as he peered through the scope, which did seem to help with his recently lowered depth perception. He focused, tremendously, nearly biting his lip as his body shook more and more, it seemed, the more he focused. Suddenly, almost without warning, the rifle blasted a massive *BANG* just in front of him, shooting his shoulder backward as it cooled down from its firing.

He groaned as he handed the rifle back, shaking his head, "I told you."

Ana shrugged, "No big deal. I missed too."

"You what?!" Reinhardt shouted, "Here I was, thinking you were some-!"

"I wasn't going to recommend you anywhere else, either," she confirmed, easily, as she reached into her pocket for two gigantic bullets to reload her gun, "A man with such a nice body doesn't need to waste away behind a desk."

As if that had finally done it, Reinhardt was left with nothing to say, though Ana didn't seem to notice as she finished reloading her firearm, tucking it in between her arm and side, "Your turn to look out. Wake me if anything happens; I wouldn't want to wake up to an omnic in my face. You don't shoot, you said."

Reinhardt felt his lips spread wide in frustration, though he quickly took on a distant expression, thinking over what Ana was wanting from him. Had it simply been an exercise? If that was the case, what had it been an exercise in? He turned to watch as she lowered herself into the opposite corner, curling up as she leaned up against the wall, covering herself up with her coat.

"Hey," Reinhardt asked, quietly, "What was-"

"You shot," Ana answered, interrupting him as she remained with closed eyes, "I just wanted to see if you would do it."

Miffed, Reinhardt looked back out into the distance, noticing the faint orange light again, now swerving in complex movements as if attempting to learn how to make itself more obscure than it had been previously. His lips curled into a frown as he sighed, sitting against the wall that joined the hole in the wall, his one eye peering out past the black spot that joined it. He pulled his hammer over, ensuring it was close by, before being left alone with nothing but his thoughts, and the vision of a mysteriously powerful, possibly crazy, woman sitting behind him, out of sight.


	14. Past Revisted

Five stories had worked their way beneath Jesse's feet as he peered out a window, just now realizing how high up he was. He grumbled to himself as he leaned against the wall, pulling the cigarette from his mouth and hold it at his side as he watched the stairwell, waiting for Jack to show up. Eventually, the old man appeared, drawing haggard breaths as he emerged.

"He still hasn't caught up?" Jesse asked.

Jack shook his head, bending down to clutch his knees in exhaustion, "No. He might have really been tired to have taken this long of a rest. There's only a handful of floors left, anyway; we'll just move on."

"You?" Jesse asked, notably, "Move on?"

"Alright, you little shit, you can cut that out," Jack grumbled, rising to his feet, "When you're my age, you should be so lucky to do what I'm still able to do."

Jesse didn't reply with anything more than a knowing grunt as he began to walk off down the hallway, shrugging, "Just make sure you're able to get that junk back. For all I know, that girl could make me your age in a second."

He moved on without waiting for an answer, making sure to lean into each room, peering into any crevice be could see. When met with anything obscuring his view, he'd slowly swing the door open and walk in, his head low as he eyed every nook he could find.

He made his way down two hallways in this way, coming to the halfway point, where he was to meet Jack, though the old man must have taken longer to recoup than Jesse had figured. He sighed, turning down into the third hallway, continuing his search. Four doors into his venture, however, he slowly poked his head into the room, his eyes narrowing in curiosity.

This room was just barely lit with a small lantern sitting in the center of the small space, illuminating a stack of stuffed animals in the corner, as well as an assortment of toys strewn across the floor, all of them in long-neglected quality. He suddenly felt a tug in his stomach that tossed its way up into his throat, lodging there as his breath began to shake.

He slowly pulled himself out from the room, peering down one end of the hallway, when, in just the most sudden of moments, he felt a massive weight tackling him to the ground. Jesse growled as he tried to push himself up off his stomach, but in a split second, his hands shot up to his neck as a thin material suddenly caught around his neck, pulling back against him.

Jesse groaned, chokingly, as he felt a hot breath against his air from his assailant, who was now digging a knee into his spine, "Now you've gotten too close to home, cowboy. Shoulda just left it alone."

Tears began to rail against Jesse's eyes as his vision tightened from lack of air. His fingers scratched at his neck, trying to work down between his skin and the noose, grunting weakly as the pain also grew from his back.

In a split second, a loud shout shot through the air as relief poured along Jesse's body as his face fell into the floor, stinging his nose. He gasped for breath, unable to see behind him, though he figured what had happened already. Sure enough, Jack stepped over him toward the man who'd fallen to the ground against the wall, blood pouring from the side of his face where he'd been assaulted by the butt of Jack's gun.

Jack grunted angrily as he crouched down, checking the man's pulse with one hand as the other shoved itself into his pocket for a rag, "He's still kicking. Hated to do that, but I had no idea how you were holding up."

Slowly making his way to his feet, Jesse grabbed at his neck, rubbing his warm hand over to soothe the skin, ignoring Jack's comment as he started off again, "Watch him. We're close. I'm gonna finish this."

Jack grumbled inaudibly, shaking his head as he tied the small towel around the man's head, "Just so long as she doesn't harangue us over causing so much trouble."

* * *

Jesse reached the next story of the building, finding it to have been in the most complete condition out of all the rest he'd seen. He noticed tools scattered up and down the hallway, mostly broken or worn down to the point of disuse, fallen down beneath walls that had crudely patched up, almost as if somebody had done their best to reclaim what they could of this decrepit building. Jesse only just noticed these as he stepped along, quietly, having a faint idea of what he'd find up here. More than anything else, it frightened him.

Sure enough, the further he went, the more complete the walls had become in their renovation. Soon enough, they came painted, at least as much of painting as a child might imbue onto a wall. Messy drawings, paint splatter; the walls had been reclaimed, only to have become canvases. Jesse's eyes dropped, trying to avoid the sight, though his face immediately perked up at the sound of voices.

He quickly hopped into a shadowy corner until he realized the voices weren't moving toward him. He crept out, keeping his body low as he sped up his pace, wanting nothing more than to find their contraband and get out. As he walked cautiously, the voices became more and more prevalent, until he could understand them. It was unmistakable, he knew; the unwavering dialogue between a woman and a child.

"-honey. You'll get a toothache," gave a gravelly, guttural voice of the mother.

"Nuh uh!" retorted the bright, childish voice.

The paused, which forced Jesse to do much the same, pushing his back against a nearby wall until he finally heard the mother speak again, "Come on, honey. You can have more later."

A childish whine accompanied her words, though it quickly faded away, replaced by the child's low voice, "You think Santa will be back with more presents?"

"Oh, I'm sure he will be," she answered.

"My friends keep saying I'm lying because he's only supposed to show up on Christmas Eve."

The mother answered, sweetly, "Well, you're just a special boy, honey. You've been extra good this year, so no wonder he'd give you plenty of stuff outside of Christmas Eve."

Jesse made his way to the door, just enough cracked for him to peek inside, his heart racing as he did so. There sat an older woman, perhaps around the same age as the man downstairs. She sat on the ground, bundled up in what looked like odds and ends of clothing that had been sewn together, fitting poorly around her skinny frame. She was spinning a lid onto a small container of cookies with the same brand name of the store Jesse had walked out of so much earlier in the day.

"Let's make sure these last until next Christmas, okay?" she spoke, feigning excitement, "Maybe then he'll bring us more."

"Okaaay," the child whined.

Jesse leaned forward, his one eye able to peer just enough further into the room. A small boy was crouched down in the corner, just above a small collection of jars, freezer bags, and plastic containers, scratching his head as he looked over the lot of them.

"Can I have these, then?" he asked, pointing to something just out of Jesse's sight.

The mother shook her head, "Maybe later on today. Remember what your father said?"

In a sudden blur, the child hopped around, shoving his fists into his hips as he blew out his chest, triumphantly shouting, "Superman ALWAYS clears his plate! and always rations for the good of the war effort!"

His mother chuckled as she nodded, "Exactly! And you want to be like Superman, right?"

"Yeah!" he shouted, excitedly, running over and falling into his mother's awaiting arms, "I wanna crush the bad guys, and be inper-per-"

"Impervious?" the mother helped along.

"Yeah, that!" the boy went on, suddenly stopping as he looked down at his mother's arm, "Momma, you're shaking again."

As if having missed it herself, the woman looked down at her arm, "Ah, I guess I am. Superman has good eyes, too!"

The boy remained quiet as he continued staring at his mother's arm. It wrapped around him, but continuously shivered in movement, non-stop, even as he tried gripping it with his tiny hand.

"Momma," he spoke up, "Superman helps people too, right?"

She smiled softly, "Yes, he does."

The boy let go of her arm, allowing his body to fall into her chest, where she happily accepted him, "I wish I could help you. I don't want you to be sick."

"Ah," the mother repeated, "Having you and your father here; that's all the help I need."

As if trying to change the subject, the mother quickly went on, "Hey, tell you what. When you wake up tomorrow, we'll go check the pantry first thing; maybe Santa will have something special for his Superman!"

"You think?!" the boy shouted, excitedly.

Jesse took a step back, his head having lowered as he stood at the door. He had stopped looking quite a while ago, simply listening to their voices until, finally, stepping away in some sort of respect for their privacy. The breath from his nose quivered, suddenly feeling some distant emotion from his past. From his own wife and child…

He felt a tingle down his neck as he turned toward where he'd come from, quickly and quietly making his way back toward the stairs, reaching up to pull his hat down over his face, almost as if in shame. He made a stop into the small room that met him on the way, slowly opening the thin door and noticing the small amounts of cans sitting scattered along the shelves.

Sure enough, his jars of peanut butter-chocolate spread sat there, all six of them. Jesse's eyes scanned them, almost worriedly, before reaching up and grasping a single jar, his hand falling to his side, helplessly, with it. He quickly shoved it into his satchel before turning again, hastily working his way back down the stairwell, running from more than just a mother and her child.

* * *

Jesse heard muffled chatter as he returned to Jack's location, finding the old soldier sitting across from the man with his eyes closed, resting back against the wall with his arm propped up on his knee. The man, bound on the ground with a rag in his mouth to gag him, was angrily sneering as he, no doubt, was spattering whatever obscenities he could toward Jack, who simply went on resting his eyes.

"Hey," Jesse spoke up, getting Jack's attention while the man jumped in surprise, his head quickly shooting up to find the cowboy.

The man's eyes grew wide in terror, almost to the point of tears, while Jesse looked him over, the cowboy suddenly realizing what he had on his immediate thoughts, "Oh, your wife and child are fine."

The man's face immediately fell to the ground, his body quaking tearfully as if he knew he had nearly lost his entire world. Jack watched Jesse curiously as he approached the man, grabbing him by the rope around his wrists and easily bringing him up to his feet. The man nodded appreciatively, though his words were still inaudible through the rag.

Jesse watched him intently, seeing the fire in the man's eyes that he hadn't seen in so many years; such a paternal, guardian flame that Jesse had once known himself. He reached around, undoing the knot at the man's wrists as Jack stood up himself, recognizing the finality of Jesse's action.

The cowboy reached up to grab the top of his hat, lowering it and offering it to the man with a soft voice, "Merry Christmas."

The man eyed him confusedly as he took the hat, though Jesse only pulled his hand back into his shawl as he muttered on, "Tell him it's Superman's, alright?"

Suddenly, the man's eyes began to water as a pitiable whine came from the rag in his mouth, simply standing there as if not knowing what to do. Jesse only gave him a nod before turning toward Jack, waving for him to tag along as the two began to leave.

Jack eyed his young companion curiously as he questioned under his breath, "I won't ask, but did you-"

Jesse swiftly pulled the jar out from beneath his shawl, earning a nod from Jack as the two went on, "Good work."

In leaving, Jesse knew this had all been an all-too-horrible reminder of his past. How poetic that this stroll down through his nightmares had all been for the same woman who had managed to rescue him from that past.


	15. A Technicolor Kiss

It was the final night of their 'Twelve Nights of Christmas', and Angela had already hopped onto the couch after finishing up the refreshments, sitting atop her knees on the couch and eagerly awaiting Fareeha's arrival, though knowing she had been tasked with the most difficult task of bringing the drinks.

Sure enough, the light in the kitchen shut off, leaving the entire living room encased in nothing but the technicolor of the tree as Fareeha stepped out through the entryway, carefully balancing two half-full glasses of wine on top of a tray which also held the bottle from which they'd been poured. Angela watched critiquingly as Fareeha focused so intently on not spilling or dropping anything.

In due time, she arrived at the coffee table, allowing herself a relieved sigh as she fell backwards onto the couch, shutting her eyes in exhaustion, "All's well that-!"

Angela pounced toward her, curling up beside her as her arms weaved around her body, burying her face into her shoulder, "You did excellent."

"I hope so," Fareeha sighed, working an arm between the two of them so that she could half-embrace her lover in return, "Maybe all the sloshing will have worked enough oxygen into the wine."

She turned down toward Angela, the two catching each others eyes before the doctor reached an arm up, slithering it around Fareeha's neck as she pulled herself up, their faces not an inch away, "I'd like to work some oxygen into _you."_

Fareeha grinned devilishly, "Have I told you how much I adore cheesy Angela?"

"I had a good teacher," Angela explained, smirking before her lips lost themselves against Fareeha's, both pairs sharing each others shapes before she slowly pulled away, her other hand reaching to hold against Fareeha's cheek, "I've had nothing but fun being able to share all of this with you."

Fareeha nodded in agreement, "Speaking of fun, where's the ornament for tonight's movie?

Snickering, Angela pulled against Fareeha's broad frame lovingly, "You're looking at it."

"Uh, I'm not sure I follow."

Angela smiled, hiding her face back between her lover's neck and shoulder, though the voice that came out was more somber than anything else, "It's a different kind of movie tonight. I figured, well, it's the last night we'll be home before Christmas, I suppose I should have something of a gift for you."

Fareeha's face stared ahead, wonderously, as a blush came across her, though as Angela managed to look up toward her, she playfully yanked on her, "No, not _that_ kind of movie. Freak."

Fareeha could only give a soft, nervous chuckle as Angela reached for the remote on the coffee table, "It's, well- It's me. from when I was a kid."

The doctor shrugged as she fiddled with the remote, speaking nonchalantly, "My dad had a camcorder, so when he got a new one, I was handed down the old one. So I would, uh, use it for stuff."

"Liiiike?" Fareeha inquired, though Amgela immediately grew red as the disc player shifted to life.

She didn't respond, but as soon as she hit 'play', she immediately hid her face again as the television came to life, revealing a sunlit-haired girl, holding a magic marker in her hand as she faced the camera, looking over her shoulder at what appeared to be a house. Fareeha's eyes immediately lit up as her lips curled up to giggle, though she made her strongest effort not to do so as the girl began speaking to the camera.

* * *

"This is Angela Ziegler, on the scene in the backyard! 'Terror of the Sunflowers: Ziegler Cleared of Wrongdoing!' is the headline as we go live to Buddy, who has just destroyed mom's garden! Not Angela Ziegler, as previously accused!"

*Angela moves closer toward the garden in the background, shakily holding the camcorder in front of her with an outstretched arm, only periodically getting the dog in the frame*

*Just within the frame, the dog begins sniffing at the ground near the garden, which Angela is desperately attempting to film with the camcorder backwards*

"It- It appears that Buddy is still on the warpath! I repeat! Buddy is on the warpath!"

*At hearing his name, the dog in the background lifts its head, just into sight, staring at Angela as she continued*

"We are heading dangerously close to -OW!- the rosebushes as we -OW!- examine the scene of the crime! I repeat, Buddy has been a-"

*the dog approaches Angela from behind, tail wagging furiously, suddenly making a mad dash toward her without her knowledge*

"-very bad dog! I repeat, it was Buddy's fault, and not- ACK!"

*Buddy hurls himself toward Angela, knocking her down and sending the screen into a furious swirl of blue and green as it falls to the ground, auto-focusing on the scene of Angela desperately trying to push Buddy away as he happily licks at her face*

"B-Buddy! Ha ha- S-Stop! Cut it out! Pfft-ha ha ha!"

* * *

Fareeha turned toward Angela, who was still hiding, and simply muttered aloud, "I thought you said you wanted to be an opera singer?"

A groan came from beside her, "I _did_. That summer I wanted to be a news reporter…"

"Huh," Fareeha smirked amusedly as she turned back to the television, which had turned to static feedback as the tape had ended the scene, "I certainly wouldn't have thought that you-"

"There's more," Angela softly interrupted, almost defeatedly.

Fareeha's eyes narrowed in curiosity before the screen suddenly switched to the inside of, what seemed to be, a closet. A red towel having been hung up as a sort of background against the wall remained there as the childish face of Angela poked out from the side of the screen, apparently checking if the camcorder had been recording. Soon enough afterward, young Angela nervously walked in front of the camera, the towel offering a sort of regal backdrop to the bedsheets that she had wrapped around herself in the form of a toga.

Fareeha's mouth dropped in awe, quickly turning toward Angela and attempting to shake her off of her as she excitedly spoke up, "Oh my god! Are you going to-?!"

Angela groaned, hanging on for dear life in a desperate attempt to hide her shame, though it only made Fareeha more vigorous as she continued, incredulously, "You're going to sing opera?!"

Without a reply coming from the present Angela, one came, instead, from the child on the screen, who slowly began singing in, what could politely be described as, a sort of melodic form of the ancient Gaulic speech that the Romans probably found to be a guttural mess. Fareeha's eyes shot open wide as a hand covered her face, instinctively hiding the widest of smiles that had managed to spread over her.

"Oh my god; you're singing 'Nessun Dorma'?!" she shouted, excitedly, continuing to yank away from Angela's grip, "This is the greatest night of my life!"

Angela groaned once again, almost shuddering more from her nerves than from Fareeha's pulling. She could hear how horrible her singing was; this very scene being the cause of her dream being dismissed upon playback. Her eyes shut tightly as she only focused on the warmth of Fareeha's skin, which seemed to temper the heat that had no doubt covered her entire face by this point.

As the child in the video reached the apex of the song, Fareeha literally jolted to the edge of her seat, pulling Angela along as she wondrously watched young Angela suddenly belt out a massively disjointed crescendo, the child's face contorting painfully as her lungs easily began seizing up from the continued note, though she continued to sing her little heart out, earning a sudden ovation from Fareeha as she stood up, even before it had finished, nodding approvingly to herself as she applauded.

Angela's legs flailed as her body suddenly rose along, and though she was wholly embarrassed, there was a sort of warmth from within her as the sound of her lover's intense applause. As the screen cut back to static feedback, Fareeha rounded out her applause, taking a breath before turning to the quivering body against hers.

"That was amazing!" she praised, happily.

Angela shook her head, her face running against Fareeha's arm, "Shut up."

"No, I mean it!" Fareeha quickly shook her own head, only able to hold back so much of her own laughter, though she quickly leaned her head down to meet the top of Angela's.

She smiled, sweetly, "You really do think this is serious."

"Well, yeah!" Angela shouted, suddenly pulling her face away to look up toward Fareeha, almost pleadingly, "I wouldn't have shown you any of that stuff otherwise! The only people who've seen it are my parents, and even then, it was only once."

Fareeha nodded, understandably, "Well, I wish I could offer something similar to prove my own intentions, but mother wasn't exactly a paragon of childhood recollections."

She smiled, raising a gentle fist up toward Angela's chin, supporting her head as she leaned down, happy to allow her lips to press so sweetly against Angela's soft pair in a kiss, before slowly pulling away, returning to her smile, "You were very cute as a child."

"Ugh," Angela groaned, rolling her eyes, "I'll regret this night, won't I?"

"Nah, it'll be fine," Fareeha assured, with a devilish tone in her voice, "I'm not the type to tease."

Angela frowned, "Oh god. I'm doomed."

Fareeha giggled, reaching down to allow the two another kiss, though this one lingered ever so wonderfully in a single, chaste moment; Fareeha refusing to ruin the moment by pulling this woman into some deep embrace. Still, she pulled away as a thought crossed her mind, her face twisting in confusion as she looked off, earning a questioning look from Angela.

"Wait, you said _you_ were the ornament?" Fareeha wondered, confused, "I don't think I understand."

Angela's head dipped low to hide a smirk, "You don't know?"

Fareeha remained lost, though in a split second, her confusion turned to wonder as Angela reached up to her hair, which had been brought up into a ponytail. She gingerly yanked on the ribbon that retained her hair's prim manger, her hair falling down to her shoulders as she shook her head, allowing it to gain some semblance of freedom as she pushed herself against Fareeha, their chests meeting beneath one's awed face and the other's mischievous look.

Angela lifted her arms up into the air, her hand so delicately holding onto the ribbon as her lips pulled to the side in a cocky manner, "You can't hang an ornament without stringing it up first, right?"

Suddenly learning the good doctor's game, Fareeha's face soften to a similar playful expression as her hands quickly rose to grasp ahold of Angela's shoulders, her warm hands working their way up either arm as she lowered her forehead to meet Angela's, the two's eyes meeting in a deep and mysterious longing stare down.

As their hands met, without breaking eye contact, Fareeha took the ribbon and pulled it around Angela's wrists, which she had so daintily pulled together for the soldier to maneuver around. At the first knot, Fareeha took either end of the silken material with both hands, suddenly yanking it tight, the sudden force causing a thrilling gasp to leave Angela's mouth.

"I suppose it's good to save the best for last," Fareeha nodded in acknowledgment.

Angela gave her a wink as her arms lowered down over Fareeha's head, the ribbon now, not only binding her to herself, but binding both of them. Now it was Angela's turn to act, pushing herself up onto her tip-toes as she now caught Fareeha's lips in a kiss, though this one took a more primal turn, now with Angela having been adequately heated by Fareeha's forceful overtaking of her freedom.

Their lips tugged at one another's as they exchanged gentle bouts of sucking at the other's softest skin, both of their minds beginning to fade into a haze of technicolor and body heat. Just managing to fight off Angela's lips, as well as her own need to find pleasure, Fareeha only barely pulled away, eying Angela's sultry eyes.

"I love you," she spoke, easily.

Angela smiled sweetly. She knew that such things as her most embarrassing moments were the ultimate deterrent for such words, though Fareeha continuously managed to rout every chance Angela offered for her to turn away. She never had; she'd simply taken Angela into her arms, into her eyes, into her bed. without fail.

Angela answered, as simply as she'd spoken anything in her life, "I love you, too."


	16. Brawl in the Family

**_A/N: While I would certainly love to finish this story in time for Christmas, I don't intend for all the remaining chapters to feel as rushed as this one (spoiler: I wasn't thrilled about this storyline from the start, anyway, but this was, in no way, meant to be my finest installment of storytelling xD). Between work, family obligations, and a History presentation due on Christmas Eve, I maaaay not finish it._**

 ** _In other news, be thankful I've put off 'Deadlocked' for as long as I have :p The last two days, I've come up with a story that is freaking amazing, and SO much better than what I had in mind, prior. Of course, the longer I wait, the more characters Blizzard adds, and Moira was a gigantic blind-side, for the record xD I thiiiink I may be able to fit her in somewhere, though. Juuuust maybe._**

 ** _In any case, this story has gotten a lot of viewership, and quite a lot of favorites, and I'm very happy that I've been able to share this with so many people! I've had a lot of fun writing it, and I hope it's been equally fun to read for the most part. Just wanted to wish you all a Happy Holidays, and let's see if we can finish it up by Christmas morning ;D_**

* * *

"YEOWCH!" Jamison cried out painfully, his spindly hair covered by various children's hands as they yanked him back down to floor, forfeiting any chance he had to escape.

Odelia chuckled warm-heartedly at the sight as she sat in her matriarch's chair, nodding approvingly at the wrestling match that seemed more likely to end Jamison's life than anything else. Mei, standing beside her, clutching the table as her body bounced up and down, furtively, in apprehension bit her bottom worriedly, quickly turning toward the grandmother of the pile of children.

"Uh, do you think that's enough for today?" she asked, worriedly, though Odelia only laughed.

She shook her head, "As long as this takes place upon the rug of combat, all is good, dear. The Lindholms are nothing if not spirited; as long as its not flying through doors or into lamps, anyway."

"Hey, kid! Ya got- OUCH! Cut it- YEOW!" shrieked Jamison, almost completely enveloped by so many of the kids as a few of their parents looked on, approvingly, giving a varied amount of applause, even.

Mei watched them and, upon realizing nothing would be done if not by her own hand, grew a fierce look on her face, suddenly rolling up the sleeves of her shirt before muttering out loud to nobody in particular, "I'm goin' in…"

Odelia turned to her with an expectant look, but Mei disappeared from her side quickly enough, diving head-long into the mass of bodies, yelling out in a battle cry that sounded more like music to the ears of the Lindholms, who only applauded louder. She flew into the stack and immediately came to a stop, opening her eyes to find a maze of arms and fists, angrily attempting to reach the unwitting opponant at the bottom, his eyes pleadingly staring up toward Mei.

"H-Help…" he squeaked, suddenly stoking the furious spirit of flame that had been lit within his companion.

Mei immediately shook her way down further through the pile of bodies, managing, finally, to get some grip on Jamison. So fixated on their target, the kids failed to notice his partner, allowing Mei to slowly work her way down to the depths of that hellish mess of punching and kicking.

As she reached down to grab his arm, Jamison's teeth clenched in a fierce expression as he wrangled his own arm away from near the jaws of some kid about to gnaw, reaching up to grab her hand. That was all Mei needed as she gave a massive tug out from the pile, locking her knees against the backs of some poor children, though she only heard the whoops and hollers of the excited adults in time with the kids whining.

Eventually, she had pulled Jamison's arm out of the pile, pulling him down toward the ground as she grimaced, "Touch…the…floor…!"

She tugged and tugged, pulling him ever so slowly, closer and closer to the wood flooring that emerged at the edges of the rug. With a final, exasperated grunt, she yanked at his arm one last time, planting what bit if it she could against the wooden floor, earning a sudden whistle from one of the parents.

"Alright, kids! Spelet är över! Give the man a rest!" came from one of the men, who rounded the couch to start pulling kids off the pile, "Quite a show, eh mama?"

Odelia laughed exquisitely, "Oh, yes!"

Some of the kids lazily rolled off the collection of bodies, falling to the floor in exhaustion, finally exposing Jamison's battered, withered frame. Mei quickly fell to her knees to check on him, frowning at the damage, though she knew he had seen worse. She jumped as the man knelt down across from her, reaching down to examine Jamison's neck.

"He'll live," he said, lightheartedly, nodding expectantly before offering a hand, "I'm Andenon. You know Brigitte? I'm her older brother."

Mei nodded in acknowledgement as she shook his head, her ears peeking up as he went on, complimenting, "That was quite the performance _you_ put on, though!"

"Yes, indeed!" came from Odelia, leaning forward in her chair, "And you, Andenom; I haven't seen you command your children like that in a good while, since the kladdkaka incident!"

Mei nodded in agreement, "I must agree with her."

Andenon laughed, "Well they had better listen to me regardless; most of them were my own children."

Mei's face went white. There had been a good twenty kids there, and he used the term _"most"_? She wavered for a moment, eyes wide in shock as Andenon laughed at her reaction, seeming to have encountered such a state before. He only offered a further, light-hearted explanation as he sighed easily.

"Yep, my Tianna has already had twelve of 'em; two pairs of twins, at that!" he nodded, approvingly.

Mei could feel some cog wheel in her head begin to slow, creaking to a halt as her mind went blank in disbelief, the only words able to escape her being, "D-Does she sleep in a crate?"

Andenon looked at her, confused, "Eh, I don't understand what you me-"

"Y'know, Mei," Odelia spoke up from behind her, jovially, "Some of our younger men could use a woman like you to whip 'em into fighting shape. The Lindholms could use a lady of your caliber to help build up a few more youngsters!"

Mei's neck creaked weakly as her head slowly turned toward Odelia, her face dark, eyes wide in horror, "W-Wha-Wha-Whaaaaa-…"

Torbjörn clamored through the front door with a massive bag over his shoulder, dressed in his old Santa attire that he'd worn every year since the kids had been born. Having said his goodbyes, he'd finally stepped out into the frigid air, where Mei and Jamison were waiting, huddled together, along the edge of the deck, both curled up and rubbing their arms, desperately.

"Wah ha ha!" Torbjörn laughed heartily, shaking his head, "I see the winter air is more tolerable than my family, eh?"

Jamison bit his tongue, wanting to be polite, though Mei was fully prepared to avail herself as she jumped up to her feet, "They're monsters!"

"Ha ha ha!" Torbjörn chuckled loudly, patting his knee as stepped out toward the freezing snow, "Y'know, my girl, you're only the fiftieth-or-so person to tell me that. I find pride in that, though! Means we instill fear!"

Jamison suddenly barked out, "Well fear instilled!"

Torbjörn laughed again, waddling through the snow toward the giant snowplow with the two guests struggling to keep up behind him. The snow had built up since last time, Mei noticed with a relieved grin, knowing the fresh snow had covered a particular someone's tracks.

"Now, when I was a lad," Torbjörn began, heatedly, as he began scaling the large truck, though the two others were far enough behind him to speak up, quietly, amongst themselves.

Jamison leaned toward Mei, "Think it'll work, sheila?"

Mei nodded, "As long as she can handle the furnace for long enough that we can't turn back. Good distraction, by the way!"

With a frightful stare, Jamison grimaced tightly, "Those little demons… I've been baked by the sun and radiation, but nothin' compared ta what I just endured back in there…"

Mei smiled, "Well, you did good."

Jamison offered back a bright grin of his own, basking in the warmth of the smile upon her face as Torbjörn suddenly barked from inside the truck, holding the door open, "Now get a move-on, you two! Back in my day, you got a whippin' for letting too much heat out!"

"Y-Yes sir!" Jamison nervously shot back, helping Mei to ascend the large wheels of the truck.

Torbjörn chuckled, turning back in toward the truck and hopping into the seat as the two guests followed him inside, shutting the door behind them. The engineer nodded approvingly as he reached for the console, switching on a button that had the truck suddenly roaring to life, a loud, quick whistle of steam bursting up beyond the roof.

Mei's teeth bit at her lower lip as she carefully peered back toward the boiler, knowing Brigitte was holed up in the only spot within the cap where one could hide, tucking in between the wall and the boiler. She worriedly watched as the metal grating began to light up a bright orange-red, turning toward Jamison, who also watched with worry.

"Now, let's crank this puppy up!" Torbjörn shouted eagerly, reaching for the knob that controlled the in-cab heat, but Mei quickly threw a hand out to tug him back from it.

"N-N-No, it's fine the way it is, right, Jamie?"

Jamison nodded, nervously, "Yes, sir!"

Torbjörn watched them suspiciously, turning slowly back toward the windshield as he pulled his arm back toward himself, Mei relinquishing her grip as he did so. In a split-second however, Torbjörn's fingers jerked out, spinning the knob to maximum before Mei could even tell what was going on. She and Jamison shot their stares back toward the small interior of the truck, instantly earning an unamused stare from the engineer sitting behind them.

"GAH!" shouted Brigitte as she immediately crawled out from her corner, rubbing her arm where she'd been in direct contact with the metal boiler.

Torbjörn nodded, slowly, "Ah ha. So _that's_ whatcha been hidin', eh?"

The three looked at him for a moment before Brigitte's head sunk with a light sigh, her shoulders dropping, "Sorry father, I just-"

"Won't tell yer mother, right?" Torbjörn finished for her, earning him a suddenly, awestruck stare from his daughter, as well as the others, "Well, c'mon; I'm not gonna keep my eldest daughter from comin' along!"

He turned toward Mei and Jamison, "When she was told to stay away from Reinhardt, she cried for nearly an entire-"

"P-PAPA!" Brigitte shouted out, embarrassingly.

Torbjörn laughed, turning back toward his controls, "Aye. Reinhardt's my dearest friend, and I know how talented my Brigitte is. I couldn't keep 'em apart! Well, eh, so long as Mrs. Lindholm doesn't know I facilitated this…"

Jamison's nervous face slowly crept into one of mischievousness as he looked back at Torbjörn, then toward the others, then back to the old man, "Well, eh- As long as it's all tha same to everybody, I have no intention of returning to this den of whippersnappers. Maaaaybe, I don't know, it was my doing? Say, a bond among engineers?"

"Weeeell…" Torbjörn began, sneakily, "If that ain't the finest idea I've heard all day."


	17. Early Christmas

Lena dash crazily through the small flat, bursting in and out of existence as she darted, pell-mell, from decorating, to checking the turkey in the oven, to checking the Eccles cakes, everything. As she jumped back and forth, the small jolts of atmosphere continuously disturbed whatever stacks of papers or napkins that had been sat around, leaving her to constantly reordering everything.

Emily had run out for some last minute shopping, as today was Christmas Eve, and guests were sure to begin arriving in just a few hours, and she had left Lena in charge of the house, which she was happy to do. For all the gifts she had wrapped, there was one last one left to be taken care of. The most important one, she thought.

She hopped into the space in front if the oven, checking the turkey, which would cook for the next few hours, and then leapt toward the large toaster oven that housed her latest batch of flat cakes, nodding in approval as she turned toward the closet, smiling as she gaily approached the thin door, swinging it open and bending down toward a gym bag that had hidden the gift. The closer she got, however, the more her smile twisted and turned into a mischievous sort of smirk.

She pulled out a small, cylindrical canister as she snickered to herself, quickly dashing back toward the table where the gift-wrapping had been left. She skillfully wrapped up the small container and happily skipped over toward the large tree in the living room, admiring its illuminated brilliance for only a moment before carefully lowering the gift down toward the others, watching as it blended in with the others.

Standing up, she nodded approvingly, now missing only Winston's final gift. She snickered once again at the thought that the man was but a few inches away from his favorite snack. She hopscotched her way back into the kitchen, catching a glimpse of an end table against the wall, pausing as she noticed the picture of her and Emily.

She smiled, reaching out to grab the picture frame, bringing it closer to her face. Just the very image of that woman could calm her down, she thought, her eyes softening at the sight of her Emily, wrapping her arm around Lena's neck as the two drew close for the pic-

In an instant, Lena's eyes blew up wide as a thought popped into her mind, accompanied by the unmistakable visage of car tires skidding right into the sound of a crash. Her head whipped around toward the tree, her jaw dropping as her arm fell to her side, just barely clutching onto the framed photo.

Emily's gift was absent.

She instantly returned the picture frame to the table, vanishing in small spurts as she made a mad dash to the front window of the small flat, sending a stack of papers flying into the air as she rounded the kitchen counters, sliding to a stop and desperately clutching the walls on either side of the pane of glass. Sure enough, Emily was walking up toward their home, on time, as always, returning from her errands.

Lena's heart raced as her teeth worriedly caught her lip, turning and rushing up the stairs to the second floor, suddenly rounding the top bannister and diving straight down the hall and onto the ground, sliding across the floor right into their bedroom and stopping just beneath the bed. Her arms launched forward at the box she'd concealed there, scurrying her way back out as a voice burst onto the scene.

"L-Lena! I could use…some help!"

Lena panicked as she looked around, nervously, "O-Okay! In a second!"

"A second?!" came Emily's voice again, strained under the weight of her bags, "I've seen you cover two kilometers in half that time for ice cream!"

Hardly even hearing those words, Lena jogged in place as she thought, her brow furrowed in thought. She grumbled to herself as she quickly left the room, rushing on down back to the first floor and placing the box inconspicuously atop the same end table that their picture as Emily's voice came again, sadly.

"My Christmas cards! Why are they all over the floor?"

She was in the kitchen! Lena quickly gathered the box and dashed around the opposing corner and hiding the box in the coat closet before making her way into the kitchen, nonchalantly, her gait taking on a certain swagger as she approached Emily, coolly.

"Welcome home," she muttered, lowly, giving Emily a salute.

"Okay, what did you do?" Emily questioned, grunting, as she pulled the bags up onto the counter.

Lena snapped a finger, upset at herself for giving it away so easily, though she retorted, "Nothing!"

Emily dropped her arms in relief, turning toward Lena with an unamused stare, "The only reason you walk like that is because you've done something and you're trying to butter me up. Remember when you came home from that Lucio concert with Winston?"

Lena looked away, giggling, "Actually, I don't."

Emily groaned, shaking her head with a frown, "Well, whatever it is, I hope it doesn't- My god! Your cakes!"

Lena's body bolted violently as she jumped in shock, jumping toward the toaster over just in time to see the collection of cakes crumbling into a black dust just as the last bits of flames began to flicker out. Her forehead rose in sadness as she fell to her knees, clutching onto the countertop, hanging her head low at the result.

"Hey, it'll be fine," Emily assured, reaching down to rub her shoulder, "We'll just make some more."

Lena muttered, weakly, "In time for tonight?"

Emily's lips tugged in thought, her eyes surveying the kitchen curiously for a moment before she sighed, shrugging weakly, "Well, actually… If you wanted to open up a present early…"

Lena's ears perked up as her head turned up toward Emily, who returned the look with a discontented frown as she went on, "I mean, saying that, I've already ruined it anyway. I don't know; it might be nice to share our gifts, just the two of us, before this place becomes a mad house."

Slowly, Lena made her way back to her feet, smiling weakly, "I mean, if you say so. I know your parents were always strict about waiting until Christmas morning to open everything."

Emily scoffed, rolling her eyes, "They also set me up with the neighbor boy, Bernard, and you and I both know how I took to _that_. I've always hated waiting; one present sounds nice, especially since it's yours."

Lena smiled widely, feeling her heart flutter as the excitedly pulled Emily along into the living room, leading the both of them over to the snowy, white light of their tree. Emily immediately picked out Lena's gift, which was a rather large thing, which she had a difficult time lifting up, having to push her knee up against it to get a better grip.

"Here you go, love," she smiled as Lena accepted it, a large look on her face as she stared in awe at the regal-looking gift, her mouth gaping open in amazement.

Emily them turned back to the tree, looking around critically, "Eh, which one's mine?"

The car crash in her mind from earlier suddenly burst out of existence as an explosion went off in Lena's mind, her face suddenly glazing over, her lips curling into a strange shape as she stared off into space. Emily turned to her, curiously, as Lena allowed her gift to slowly slip from her arms, carefully lowering it onto the ground at her feet.

She bit her lip, "Uh…about that…"

"You forgot again?" Emily asked with a knowing grin.

"No!" Lena cried out, pleadingly.

Emily only giggled, covering her mouth politely, "So you forgot to wrap it?"

A soft, saddened sound came from within Lena as she whined, quietly, nodding her head, defeatedly. Emily only smiled, reaching a hand out to grasp onto Lena's and pulling herself closer toward her, careful not to hit the large box that stood between them.

"Come on," Emily muttered, brightly, "I know enough about you. I'm not going to be upset that something slips your mind; I'm still shocked you have one, given what all you can do!"

Lena shrugged, "I know, I just wanted to-"

"Nuh uh," Emily interrupted, silencing her, "Just get it so we can exchange our presents. I don't care if it's wrapped or not; it's something you thought I'd like, and that's plenty."

Sighing defeatedly, Lena still put on a weak smile as her drooping shoulders began toward the closet, swinging it open as Emily began sliding her gift over toward the couch, taking a seat and watching as Lena frowned, kicking the door shut and making her own way over. Her gift was so stupidly bland, so thought, compared to Emily's brilliant display of wrapping; she hated herself for having forgotten to do anything.

Still, Emily smiled back at her, and Lena's lips managed to turn up as her head fell forward, ashamedly, sitting beside her lover and simply holding the box on her lap. Looking down at the feebly decorated container, she jumped as Emily's hand suddenly reached over toward her own, working its way between Lena's and the box until their fingers were entwined.

"You come home from such unimaginable work, to me, and still find time to let me love on you without complaining," Emily smiled, "That's gift enough. There's not much you can give the happiest girl in the world."

Lena rolled her eyes, "Oh, well shucks, love… You make it sound so difficult to come home to you."

"I don't know," Emily giggled, "The point is, I love how scatterbrained you get, how excitable you get, how-"

Lena frowned, suddenly interrupting her, "Did you just call me stupid?!"

"Stupidly in love, maybe," Emily grinned, matching the same smirk that had arisen across Lena's face all the same.

The pilot placed her small box on the table, reaching down for the large present at the ground, "Now, what have we here!"

She began tearing at the wrapping paper as Emily smiled, crossing her arms as she fell into the couch to watch, comfortingly, "I had to make some calls to that Mei lady. She even had to make a call or two to her friend down in Junkertown for some stuff."

Lena's eyes grew excitedly wide as she slowly looked up toward Emily, "It blows stuff up?!"

"No, no," Emily frowned, "And don't get so happy about that sort of idea."

A giggle came from Lena as she continued unwrapping, "C'mon now, love. If that Roadhog is up to anything; he's the kind of person who knows a good explosion! I just hope that-"

Her eyes glazed over in wonderment as she tore open the four slips of cardboard that made up the lid of the box, staring deeply at the large, metallic contraption that sat at its base. Her eyes peeked up toward Emily, almost worriedly.

She whispered, as if not wanting to disturb the metal beast, "What is it..?"

Emily laughed as she leaned back up and over toward the gift, "It's an Eccles cake maker. It cooks them perfectly, and if the sugar catches fire, this baby's got the best titanium shell this side of Derby! Best of all, it cuts the time in _half_!"

Lena's jaw dropped, "Oh my god! It's brilliant, love!"

Emily nodded, knowingly, "Weeell, you may want to pull it out and examine it before exerting _all_ your excitement…"

As if on a dime, Lena immediately dug her hands into the large box, whipping the giant machine out and onto her lap, suddenly gasping for breath as the noticed the giant logo that emblazoned the sides of the contraption.

"I worked a good five weeks on the design," Emily spoke up, humbly, "I thought 'Lena's Cavalry Cakes' sounded like a winner."

Still in the midst of hyperventilation, Lena's eyes locked onto the sheer brilliance of the design, the lettering resembling some sort of motor-punk font, while a cartoonish depiction of Lena, herself, giving a thumbs up adorned the wording.

"It…It's wonderful," she muttered quietly, lifting it up, pulling it to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of every nook and cranny of the device.

Emily laughed quietly at her excitement, eyeing the shabby-looking box on the coffee table, "Well, is it my turn now?"

"Hold on!" Lena shouted, carefully laying her machine elsewhere on the table before quickly reaching over to give Emily a quick kiss, "Okay, now it's your turn."

Now excited herself, Emily pulled the box over, peeking up playfully toward Lena as she pretended to tear at the non-existent wrapping paper, earning a unamused glare from Lena. She only giggled for a moment before carefully taking the edges of the lid, slowly lifting it up to find a steampunk-looking square frame looking back at her. Her eyes narrowed curiously, reaching in and grasping the odd device, pulling it up to her face as Lena smiled, expectantly.

"O-Okay…" Emily muttered, lightly, still trying to ascertain what it was, eyeing the black panel that sat within the frame.

She turned it upside down, a quick gasp escaping her lips as she looked up toward Lena's chest before comparing it to the lightly-glowing ring that sat at the back of the frame, "That's a-"

"Chronal accelerator," Lena nodded, smiling brightly, "Well, something like it. It works similarly, though it isn't the same thing. This one on me allows me to travel through time and space, but _that_ one does the same thing to thoughts and stuff."

Emily's lips pulled into her mouth, confusedly, as she stared even more seriously at the device, "Okay, I don't quite understand still."

Quickly, Lena reached over to grasp the frame, nodding to herself, "Well, we got it to work before. Let's see, you just- Oh! There you go!"

She rushed it back into Emily's hands, her eyes jolting open wide at the sight. The black screen has suddenly lit up, though it wasn't a singular, still image. It moved. It was a moving picture of some cityscape, as if it was somebody's vision, the screen turning excitedly from side to side. She recognized the scene, at least somewhat; Emily's hand reached up to cover her mouth in wonder as her eyes quickly grew red as they started to tear up.

The image suddenly floundered, as if being knocked off balance, spinning and turning, round and round, until only the blue sky was covering the area within the frame. It was Lena, she suddenly realized; that was what she saw, back on the very day that the two had-

Suddenly, a mass of red hair and freckled face jumped into the frame, staring back at Emily, worriedly, her lips quickly running inaudibly. Present-day Emily looked up toward Lena, who only smiled back.

"I can't hear what I'm saying," she laughed, lightly, in between tearful sobs.

Lena nodded, "Well, there's audio and everything. It's just that when I first saw you, I couldn't hear anything myself, so when it plays it back, it's not there."

Emily laughed again, nervously, as tears ran down her face, smiling sweetly as she watched herself pulling Lena to her feet. She knew the story, by heart; she would offer Lena coffee to apologize for running into her, Lena would vigorously reject the offer, as _she_ had been at fault, offering to take _Emily_ out for coffee instead. It read like a love letter from Lena in the form of a small, framed video.

"It's perfect," Emily tearfully managed, looking back up toward Lena.

The pilot nodded appreciatively, "Yep! I guess I need to be handling it for it to work, but I'm sure I'll work out the kinks. I think it can even catch my current thoughts if I can figure that out."

"Oh, I don't need any of that," Emily smiled, her cheeks already running almost as red as her hair, "Just this moment… It's perfect."

Lena's body shook as she held in a giggle, happily reaching her arms outward as Emily suddenly jumped into her, the two falling back onto the length of the couch with Emily quickly working her arms around Lena. She reached her head up, kissing as high up as she could, which happened to be her cheek.

"I'm sorry I'm such a mess right now," Emily apologized, but Lena only pulled her arms up her back, pulling her shoulders closer toward her.

She smiled, "It's always just a beautiful mess, love."

Emily smiled, burying her head into Lena's shoulder as the pilot held her close, the two of them falling silent, leaving only the gentle, comforting whirring of Lena's chest, alongside their shared heartbeats.

They'd get back to preparing soon enough. But for just a moment, they needed to share in one another's embrace.


	18. Convergence

Fareeha kept her head up as she walked briskly down the sidewalk, alongside Angela, though she had insisted on carrying all four of their bags, which had turned into a questionable decision; not so much due to the weight, but because her neck was being chafed by the tight neck of her dress shirt. She had already stumbled once or twice due to not being able to lower her head, though while Angela noticed the problem, she only hid a grin, waiting for Fareeha to ask for her help, which was something the soldier hardly ever did, not so much for pride as much as not wanting to burden her lover.

Finally, Fareeha grunted deeply, turning her giraffic-looking head toward her partner, "Hey, can you-?"

"I'm on it," Angela lightly interrupted mid-turn, attentively reaching up to loosen up the collar, "This weather though; I'm not surprised its shrinking. I'll just redo your tie real quick and see if that helps."

"London, right?" Fareeha muttered, glibly.

Angela frowned, "Must be because its an island; growing up in a landlocked nation was a dream for me, now that I've been so many places."

"And Egypt isn't?" Fareeha grinned, teasingly.

"Honey," Angela sighed, "I love you, but I've got to tell you, the weather down there is downright unbearable as well."

Fareeha laughed quickly as Angela finished up her tie, "I should have you train and exercise in the heat; it won't feel like nearly as big of deal after that."

Angela rolled her eyes, "Yeah, that's never going to happen, dear."

She patted Fareeha's arm lovingly before turning, allowing the two to continue along down the London street, only a while away from their destination as the sun began to set, streaming hues of purple and orange above them. It was the same scene that encompassed the two of them back in Gibraltar, Fareeha thought, turning to Angela with a smile.

The doctor turned to watch her, confused, "What is it?"

"This was pretty much our first date," Fareeha noted, now grinning goofily as Angela rolled her head around her shoulders.

"By date, you mean what, exactly?"

Fareeha continued, coyly, "We walked this very street together. It was right after my first simulation; up until then, I had always admired you, and sort of thought you were beautiful, so I kind of had a major crush on you. After you jumped down there to help me out; that was when I first fell in love with you, I think."

Angela eyed her unenthusiastically, "So you were infatuated when we visited; it doesn't even matter how I felt at the time?"

"Well, I _did_ end up winning you," Fareeha happily concluded, haughtily, "Though, I know that, at the time, you probably found me to be some meddlesome, up-to-no-good recruit overstepping her bounds."

Angela's head tilted to the side, "Well, yeah, for the most part, actually. Last time we were here, I was too busy trying to come up with an excuse to escape, but to no avail. I guess it wasn't a terrible evening."

Fareeha's forehead crinkled in thought, "Why don't you two get along, anyway? Weren't you the one who brought her on in the first place?"

"You've been reading up on the files," Angela sighed, closing her eyes in exasperation, "It's a long story. All you need to know is that _she_ started it."

A crooked smirk rolled across Fareeha's face, "This isn't one of those things where she would say it's _your_ fault, is it?"

"Oh, of course she would," Angela shrugged, "Whatever helps her sleep at night. I don't particularly care either way, to be honest; I'm the one continuously trying to bring ruin to the other."

She took a deep breath, glaring ahead at the extending sidewalk, groaning as she continued, "You remember that we all sort of began to divide into factions?"

Fareeha nodded, "Yeah, and were pretty much the only one on your side, right?"

"Well, Amari and I were sort of the ends of the spectrum. Everybody else, save for a few, sort of took a neutral view of things, which I can respect. Even I altered my views depending on the situation- I mean, Amari and Torby were always sort of gung-ho, but it's whatever."

"Anyway, Lena stood by me for the most part; I don't know if she felt indebted or anything, or maybe she just thought peacemaking was a more heroic deed. I don't really know, but even when she dissented on my opinion, I didn't hate her for it or anything- especially by then, Overwatch had become more of a business in my eyes."

"Then, the sort of crux of our early existence came when Amari and Torby began playing around with the idea of using biotics as weaponry, which I was so vehemently against, right?" Angela asked rhetorically, though Fareeha groaned painfully.

"I remember my mother complaining every time I saw her around that time," Fareeha sighed, shaking her head with displeasure, "I'm pretty sure I ran a few extra laps because she was so upset."

"Sorry, "Angela grinned, "Kind of cool to know we sort of were connected in a way before even meeting."

Fareeha quickly covered up her mouth as she tried to conceal a quick giggle, which caught Angela's attention immediately, "What?!"

The soldier looked away, innocently enough, "Nothing! Just had a thought or two."

"Uh huh," Angela muttered in reply, unconvincingly, staring ahead peevishly, her face suddenly brightening at the appearance of two men up ahead, standing around, with the unmistakable visage of a large gorilla hiding within an assortment of shrubbery that sat at the edge of somebody's yard.

The doctor sighed, reaching over to tug on Fareeha's sleeve, "Red alert, apparently."

Fareeha smiled, "Do they think he'll be stopped for autographs? or maybe that the pound will catch him?"

"Kids _would_ like a big ol' teddy bear of a gorilla, I'd think," Angela thought aloud, humorously.

As the two continued walking down the sidewalk, Jack was the first one to notice the two, turning his head to alert the other two, allowing Winston a chance to happily throw his hand in the air, right through the crape myrtle, excitingly waving without leaving whatever concealment he was led to believe that he had there.

"I'm a bit nervous," Fareeha confided, nervously, "I've never met the great Jack Morrison before."

Angela shrugged, "He's no more skin, bones, and machine than most agents. Stick around Overwatch long enough, and you, too, maybe begin harboring some implants, courtesy of yours truly."

"I doubt it," Fareeha confirmed, smugly, "I've already told you I'd come back to you, from every mission. Even from death, if you remember correctly."

"I do," Angela whispered quietly, "Very much."

"It doesn't sound at all like you to want to escape your normally boisterous self," Angela noted, playfully, receiving a heavy hug from her commander.

Winston chuckled, sending a quake through Angela's body, "That's because you only ever see me at my Watchpoint. You might be surprised to know how self-conscious I am out in the field…"

Jack shrugged, shaking his head pithily, "Despite the fact that, with his beating heart and flowing blood, he's closer to humans than most of the things you see roaming around shopping malls."

Winston frowned, "It's just- Well, it's just complicated, I guess."

"C'mon Jack," Angela muttered, reaching over to take the old man's hand, "Cut him some slack."

"I'll ignore that Mei-ism," Jack grumbled, accepting Angela's hand, though he grunted loudly as she pulled herself toward him and into a hug, his arms slowly returning the favor.

"I always forget how emotionless you are after spending so much time with people who are," Angela explained, lightly, as she smiled.

Jack only groaned, frowning, "I still have a heart, you know."

"Yes! I've put it back together on multiple occasions!" Angela retorted loudly, breaking into laughter as she turned back toward Fareeha, only forcing her face to drop embarrassingly.

Fareeha stood, mouth open, as if in awe of the man before her and, not knowing what to do, her mind had simply wandered off somewhere. Jack leaned down toward Angela, quietly managing a hoarse whisper into her ear.

"Is she okay?"

Angela laughed nervously, rushing over toward her companion and yanking on her arm, pulling her right back into reality as the soldier suddenly shot her hand up to her forehead in attention, "C-Captain Morrison, sir!"

Winston and Jesse both eyed Fareeha curiously while Angela only dropped her face into her awaiting palm, hiding her embarrassment. Jack examined Fareeha from top to bottom before waving her off, allowing her to simply stand at attention with her arms at her sides.

"Really?" he spoke up, his voice as gravelly as ever, "You gonna do this from now on or somethin'?"

Fareeha's face contorted into a look that was torn between respect and simply obeying the man, though she reached for the latter, exhaling deeply, "S-Sorry, I just-"

"I know what you were doing," Jack interrupted with a harsh voice, though in an instant, it softened dramatically as he continued, almost with a chuckle, "You did the same thing when you were just a child."

"O-Oh," she replied, apologetically, "I didn't mean to-"

"Don't mention it," Jack interrupted once again, almost as if he knew her very next step, "You know, I read the reports on you when I got back. Impressive stuff. You keep at it, who knows what you might be able to do with an organization like Overwatch."

Fareeha blushed mightily as Angela elbowed her playfully, "You hear that?"

"I-I think so…" Fareeha answered, fleetingly.


	19. The Doorstep of Lena and Emily's

Lena stood at the door, tapping her foot against the floor as she impatiently stared down at her watch, the more waiting she was doing, the more her lips disappeared into her mouth in frustration. Emily could see her from the kitchen, and she simply groaned under her breath, setting the sported spoon down into the sink.

"They'll get here when they get here," she reminded Lena, though it did little to quell her frustration.

Lena's head shot to the side, "Nuh uh! They're not gonna be playing this game! You've worked so hard to prepare for this; nothing is going to hinder or ruin tonight!"

She grumbled to herself, deeply, sticking out fingers as she counted, "The turkey will be at prime eating temperature in one hour, which gives adequate time for everybody to get comfortable, assuming they're here _on time_. Then, the cakes will be done a half hour from _then_ , again, assuming they're on time, which, seeing as how its currently 7:02, I don't think that's possible!"

"So, we'll just mingle a lot faster," Emily sighed, "It's not that big of a deal. Considering all you've told me about everybody, I shouldn't ever expect a _normal_ time."

Lena frowned, "I'm not going to have my girl's night ruined by-"

"It's not going to be ruined," Emily groaned, throwing her apron over onto the table as she left the kitchen, heading toward Lena, "The only thing that could ruin it is if you're in this mood all night, okay? Just calm down."

Sighing lightly, Lena's frown lessened, but didn't disappear, "I'll try, I guess."

"Good," Emily nodded, reaching out to hug Lema from behind, resting her head on her shoulder, "Besides, even if tonight goes to the dogs, we'll both still wake up tomorrow, you in those footie pajamas of the pink rabbit you insist on wearing, and we'll have our Christmas, just you an me."

Lena groaned, trying to keep her "cool" demeanor from being softened by her lover's words, though she couldn't much help it as she lowered her head, "Fine, fine. I'll be good."

"Alright," Emily nodded, "It'll be a good time."

She turned to return the kitchen, leaving Lena to her own devices as she brought her hands up to her face, clattering her fingertips together as a sinister grin spread across her face, "Yes. A good time indeed, Ziegler… A good time indee-"

 _*knock knock*_

Lena jumped suddenly in surprise, turning back to Emily, who coaxed her on into opening the door. The pilot waved her hands, as if to remove her sinister thoughts from them, before reaching out to pull open the door, her face brightening up at the sight.

"Yoo hoo!" Mei shouted out loud, jumping at Lena with great deal, the two immediately taking each other into a hug, "Merry Christmas!"

Lena's face ached as her muscles strained into the widest of smiles, "Nuh uh! Merry Christmas to _you_! Howdy, everybody!"

The group stood out on the sidewalk, as if deciding not to crowd together right in the doorway, though most of them smiled and waved in response as Lena waved them all in, "Well come on! Dinner's almost done, so get ready to-"

Lena cringed as her eyes scanned the small crowd, her eyes locking onto the chestnut hair of Brigitte. Her look turned dark as she slowly crept back into the house, her neck turning ever so slowly toward the kitchen, now that she was well inside the entryway.

"Emily..? she muttered, under the confused glare of Mei, who remained I'm the doorway, "How many meals were you planning for..?"

"Um," Emily replied, busily, "I don't know; I thought twelve."

Lena nodded slowly, turning back toward the door as Jack appeared, squeezing in through the doorway between Mei and the door, "Sorry, but I really need to-"

""Hold up!" Lena shouted, getting a sudden, shocked look from both Jack and Mei, "Single file, everybody. Without Ana and Reinhardt, we have admission for eight people left, so we're just going to make sure we end up with the number alotted when the invites were sent-"

"Lena!" Emily shouted, hushly, as she rushed to the doorway, drying off her hands after having heard her sudden exclamation a moment ago.

She smiled quickly at the two guests at the door before suddenly turning toward Lena, annoyingly, whispering to her, "What's the problem?!"

Lena replied back, pointing at the door, "There's a "plus one"! We didn't add any of those to the-"

"Just let them all in," Emily ordered, lightly, "We'll make do, dear."

Lena's face fell, her heart having taken a swipe in her wanting to make Emily's night perfect, so she simply stood to the side, holding open the door while pointing toward the hallway, "Bathroom's there."

"Uh, thanks," Jack muttered nervously, still left slightly uncomfortable by the two's confrontation, though he quickly walked past them and down the hallway, leaving only Mei.

"I-Is this a bad time?" Mei wondered aloud, shakily, pointing a thumb over her shoulder, "I mean, we could come back, uh, next Christmas?"

Emily quickly shook her head, "No! No; Lena's just very…reluctant to have tonight ruined by anything as miniscule as an extra guest."

Lena held her head up in a dignified manner, eyes closed, as Emily spoke, like a noble watchdog. Mei gave her an examining glance before returning to Emily, smiling before waving for everybody to come in after her. Emily nodded appreciatively as she jumped to the side of the door, allowing her to shake everybody's hands, beginning with Mei, who enthusiastically did so as if just now entering.

"The living room is just down there. Please make yourself at home," Emily invited, leaving Mei to dash into the flat, exuberantly, her head and body moving in every dire tion to examine her surroundings.

Emily turned back to the door, suddenly jolting back in surprise, though she quickly recovered, holding a hand to her forehead, "I-I'm so sorry, uh, Winston! I just didn't see you, like, right _there_!"

He laughed, waving a hand in dismissal, "No problem at all, my dear. I just knew that Lena was-"

Looking toward Lena's still-regal, yet distant, expression, Winston chuckled, "-She was somewhat in a foul mood. Have you ever tried tickling her out of her bad moods?"

Lena's eyes shot open, waving her hands in front of herself, desperately, a small hint of laughter breaking through her serious face, "N-No! Don't tell her that! I'll be good!"

Winston grinned mischievously, before sharing an agreeing nod with Emily, moving along down the hallway as the rest of the guests began to file in. As the line went on, it came down to Brigitte and her father, the younger of the two being slightly downtrodden after Lena's earlier complaints. As they approached the door, Lena's face grew a suspicious look before she felt a sudden tug at her scarf.

"Now look here, lass; my eyes are down _here_!" Torbjorn complained playfully, "Have some respect for yer elders!"

Lena immediately cocked a smirk as she bent down to hug the man, heartily, just barely hanging on as Torbjorn shook lightly with laughter, "Now what's this about an extra mouth to feed? Didn't you get the memo?"

Both Emily and Lena stared at him, confused, as a discouraged look covered Torbjorn's face, his body slowly turning around toward Brigitte. She had crossed her arms and held her shoulders high in a shrug.

"How was I supposed to do that, exactly? I was grounded, remember? My phone's back in mother's china cabinet under lock and key," she explained, drolly.

Torbjorn grumbled under his breath, holding a hand against his face as it shook, depressingly, returning to the two hosts, "Well, I do apologize on behalf of my little girl. I certainly didn't intend on startin' a ruckus. Rein wanted us to tell you, but I suppose, if we're here anyway, we might as well show ya."

He waved Bridgette forward, moving toward the edge of the stoop to make room for her as she knelt down to rummage through her rucksack, "Poor girl got a one over by the misses. I try to help out where I can; "putting her to work" in my workshop just letting her work out and stuff."

Bridgette absently extended an arm, flexing it forcefully while digging her other hand deeper into her beg, muttering aloud, "All I want is to be a Crusader myself. You can't skimp on your training for anything."

"Not even the old lady," Torbjorn shook his head, laughing.

Lena awed down toward Bridgette, nodding in amazement, "You're certainly looking the part! Reinhardt could sweet talk a mountain into the ocean; no wonder his spirit is just as contagious!"

Brigette nodded as she whipped out a small envelope, raising it into the air dramatically before lowering it down for Lena to accept. She pulled it over and opened the typewritten letter, a transmission message, holding it apart from her so that Emily could ready along, her head already leaning over Lena's shoulder, curiously.

* * *

ATTN: This transcript certainly did not pass through Mei Ling-Zhou's hands, and portions of it were certainly not altered.

Emilena-

Surely, you of all people, would understand how fleeting life is, Lena, and by now, I would assume Emily understands how fragile being bound to another being can be. I apologize, whole-heartedly, for our absense, but my Adendium and I need more time to catch up than either of us can be allotted.

Presents have been carried to you by my most faithful of companions. Gifts for Mei Ling-Zhou are listed under the codenames "McCree", "Angela", "Fareeha", and "Winston", for easy reference.

May your Christmas be as joyous as our reunion.

-Anahardt

* * *

"Huh," Emily wondered aloud, "I've see those names before on Mei's blog."

Lena excitedly shoved the sheet of paper in her pocket, smiling wide at the final two guests, "Well, I guess we have room for one more!"

Brigitte smiled in return, letting her father work his way up the last few steps before following him along, looking away embarrassingly as her father complained with a grumble, "These damned British steps! Couldn't they have spent five seconds thinkin' about men of slight stature!"

Such was the polite way he had put it, himself.


	20. The Christmas Party of 2076

Lena and Emily were sound asleep in their bed, as characteristically different as they'd become known. Emily slept on her side, clutching onto a pillow as she quietly slept, huddled near the edge of the bed, more than likely induced by the behaviors of the woman she shared the mattress with.

Beside her lay Lena Oxton, snoring mildly on her back, legs spread wide underneath strewn covers that whipped and wrapped along her body, though only one arm was as normally irregular, stretched somewhere up between the headboard and mattress. In her other arm was a small cube-like object, which she clung to, almost desperately, in her sleep amidst the ragged snores and occasional kicking.

At some point in the night, the cube began to gradually emit a soft, blue light, washing the walls in a pulsation of blue as the light began to brighten for just a moment before fading out, then repeating the process. It did this for a minute or two before the object gave a quick, sudden whirr as vibrated, shooting Lena's eyes wide open as her body shot up in the bed, pulling the block up to her face.

"Oh my god!" she shouted, rolling out of bed in as reckless a manner possible, forcing Emily to jolt awake, though in a more fearful state than Lena.

Emily quickly looked around, "Who is it?!"

She paused as she came across Lena, whose body had lifted up from the edge of the bed as she pulled a pair of jeans up, hopping around as she tried to find the end with her foot, earning Emily's ire, "Where do you think you're going?"

"Recall!" she shouted, pointing at the glowing cube only a second before nearly toppling over into the dresser.

Emily lazily turned to stare at the illuminated block, eyes dropped with tire as she muttered, "…what?"

Lena groaned slightly, desperately trying to keep her balance as she clumsily pulled a sock down her foot, "Overwatch. Winston. Recall."

She panted with exhaustion from the act, though she finally stomped her foot onto the ground, gasp of air escaping her rhythmically, "Work is calling."

Emily frowned, pulling her knees up to rest her arms in front of her as her hands met each other, "Oh. Right."

Lena's lips pulled sideways as she watched her girlfriend, finishing the second upon her other foot, "C'mon love, I'll be back. Work is calling now, sure; but you call me as well, and I always return to you."

Still frowning, her lover eyed her, unimpressed, but she still lowered her knees and reached her arms out, sighing, "If you're going to be late at work, you're going to need a hug to help you get through it."

Grinning ear to ear, Lena bolted toward Emily in a blast of quick blue light, ending up above her, her legs straddling both of her as a gust of wind swirled around the two, sending Emily's hair flying until Lena gently took her nails and pulled them down her scalp, straightening out the red locks she so loved. Order restored, she leaned down so that their faces nearly met, holding Emily's cheeks.

"I maaaay just need a kiss, too. Y'know, just in case it gets _too_ late," Lena smirked.

Emily couldn't help but roll her eyes, her lips curling upward reluctantly as she shook her head as best she could, "You're so totally helpless; you know that?"

Without reply, Lena leaned down ever so lovingly, making sure to linger just the slightest bit as she pushed herself into Emily for a kiss. She pulled away only just enough for their eyes to meet, the blue light from her chest drowning Emily's face in a darkly demure hue that so beautifully matched the time of night.

"Come on," Emily smirked, pushing Lena away, "I'll at least stand up to give you a hug. Stay any longer on here and we won't have enough time to finish what we start."

Now it was Lena's turn to frown, though her cheeks puffed out slightly as well, forcing her to betray her own frustration with a display of adorability as she took to her feet, "Hey, what do you take me for? I'm not some pot of tea ready to be steamed; I'm no James Bon- Actually, that would be pretty cool-"

"ACK!"

Emily face-planted into the ground as she'd attempted to leave the bed, letting loose a cry as she did so. She quickly reached up to rub her nose as she turned to the side, staring knowingly toward Lena, who only returned the favor with a nervous shrug.

"What?!" she questioned, immediately.

* * *

Emily's face was hidden beneath her hair as she'd lowered it onto the table in a desperate attempt to shield herself from, what she figured to be, odd stares from all of their guests. While she was correct in that assumption, it didn't seem to faze Lena, who simply went on telling the story, with the flair of an expert story-teller.

"Now, Em contends that, as I ported across the bed, it was _my_ fault," Lena regaled, dramatically shrugging as though there was zero credence to Emily's argument before going on, pointing a finger in front of her, "What _really_ happened, it seems, was that something scientifically miraculous occurred that night! In porting across the bed, for whatever reason, I seemed to have, for the briefest of moments –pun not intended- pulled the atmosphere _around me_ into one of my chronal activities. Time and space, _itself_ , literally got Emily's knickers in a twist, causing her to lose her footing as she exited the bed!"

Emily's remained motionless, still hidden, while all of the guests did very much the same, simply staring at Lena as she recounted such a personal, such an odd, tale, though the Brit simply stood there in wonderment at the puzzle the incident seemed to have brought to her attention. She nodded to herself as if solving equations in her mind, hardly knowing the world around her existed until Torbjorn managed to speak.

"Er, uh, ahem," he cleared his throat, nervously, bowing his head respectfully in a show of solidarity with Emily, "What brought this up again?"

Lena proudly stuck a thumb into her chest, "Winston was going on about how _I_ , the Furious Flighter, was the first to answer his recall! Not only the first day or so; no no, the first few minutes, at that!"

The group turned toward Winston, who had had a spoon still in his mouth, left there the last few minutes as Lena's story had left him too shocked to finish his bite, "Look here, I had no idea at what would follow."

"Hey!" Lena challenged, "I'm falling bum-backwards into theoretically quandaries here! Y'know how often I bolt through the Watchpoint?! Any number of you guys could have fallen victim to my power's abilities that I had no idea about!"

A few of the guests exchanged confused glances toward one another until Jack muttered beneath his breath, "Er, no. I don't think we ever have."

Lena's lips slanted in dissatisfaction as she fell back into her seat, crossing her arms, "Here I was, concerned for all of you…"

Jesse sighed, shaking his head as he turned toward Fareeha, "So, what's new on the front? Say something, please; just anything to get us off all that."

"O-Oh!" Fareeha answered, surprised at being put on the spot in such a way, "Well, uh…nothing to report really, actually."

As if throwing herself into the line of fire, which was only to come in embarrassed stares, Emily raised her head with a quiet sigh, looking toward Torbjorn and Brigitte with a forced smile, "How about you two? I haven't had the chance to meet either of you tonight."

Brigitte nodded graciously, beginning, "Well, I-"

"Torbjorn Lindholm, of the Lindholm Clan!" Torbjorn interrupted, mightily, raising his glass into the air, "We are the descendants of the Vikings that plundered most all of ancient Rome, yet in a GREAT injustice, done by historians to my line, fails to be recognized for the landmass that easily could have been _considered_ theirs, had they small egos reserved for those with small-"

"You know," Emily laughed nervously, "We actually met at the door; you obviously are a man who knows how to tower over his peers."

Torbjorn stared at her, first in offense, though at the conclusion of her words, it turned to pride as he spoke up once again, "Well, it truly is a skill that cannot be learned, I must say. Look at Brigitte, here! She was _born_ with the heart of a lion!"

She nervously stroked her arm, trying to bury herself in a metaphorical hole as her father concluded, slamming his glass into the table, " _Somebody's_ gotta strike fear into the enemy with a single roar!"

He turned toward Brigitte, patting her on the back, "Come on, my girl; roar for 'em!"

"Dad, I don't think-"

"Roar!"

The sound of glass shattering broke the air as Angela quickly looked down toward her feet, trying her best to hide her acting, "Oh, darn! Sorry guys; Brigitte, would you come with me and get this cleaned up?"

"Gladly," she answered as the two left the table, leaving Torbjorn to absently shrug as he returned to his meal.

Lena stared down the length of the table, eyes narrowed in suspicion as normalcy, at least seemed, to return to the meal. Besides the polite noises from Winston and the rather ravenous chewing of Torbjorn and Jack, there wasn't much in the way of noise until Emily turned toward Mei, leaning toward her.

"Hey Mei," she spoke up, in the way she had been instructed to address Mei in any initial fashion, "Would you and Jamison like to put a record on? I know you enjoy old fashioned tech and all that."

"Boy would we!" she shouted excitedly, hopping from her chair and racing into the living room, with Jamison following behind, smiling appreciatively at Emily.

Winston raised a primly proper finger in suggestion, "How about some Dina Martini! Her soprano is legendary!"

Jack lowered his head, weakly, "Oh god, no. Look man, we had enough of that in Lucille; we don't need-"

"Who's Lucille?" Fareeha asked, confused.

"Don't ask." "Just…don't." answered Winston and Jack.

Fareeha leaned back, taken aback, as Jack stood up, leaning over the table to reach out however closer toward the living room, "Put on some Mel Thorme, please. We'll need some velvet fog to cover _all_ of our shame after that last story."

At that, Lena jumped up, angrily, "Okay, that does it! Are you _all_ TRYING to ruin this night?!"

Her face was stuck in a sneer as everybody eyed her in shock, unsure of how to respond. The sink in the kitchen had stopped as well, Angela and Brigitte, no doubt, happy to be in another room. Lena's glare scanned each face at the table, as if waiting for a prisoner who would step forward to rat the others out, although, in this instance, they would truly be selling themselves out as well.

Suddenly, the faint noise of music began as Mei and Jamison had gotten the record player going, though it did little to extinguish the mood in the dining room, as Lena remained silently enraged, her fingers rubbing against the tabletop as her hands grew into fists.

"I-'m dreamin'…of a whi-te Christma- *ZWERP*!"

Emily quickly turned toward the living room, alongside Lena's stare as her neck whipped around in the same direction. The table guests breathed a sigh of relief as Lena stomped away into the other room, with Emily quickly rising to her feet in pursuit, the red-head suddenly worried as Lena stopped ahead of her, the pilot's fist trembling as Emily finally caught up to see the sight.

Jamison has disappeared, with only his pointed hair sticking out from behind the sofa, as Mei has her arms stretched out wide as if to conceal the charred remains of the antique record player, "I-I-I-I-I can- I can ex- Explain!"

Emily's eyes quickly turned toward Lena, just in case she were to pounce, though she only shut her eyes tightly, turned back toward the dining room and walked off toward the back of the house, up the stairs until disappearing into one of the rooms, leaving a trail of somber stares in her wake. Emily sighed, deeply, as she walked into the living room, waving Mei off.

"It's fine; we never played it anyway," she smiled, "If I need to, I could just fine anoth-"

"I-I thought I could make it perform better!" Mei shouted, almost in tear by this point, her throat croaking, "At 33 rpm, it was only going at a rate lower than what the human ear can-!"

"Mei," Emily interrupted, calmly, placing her hands on the scientist's shoulders, "It's okay. You two just get back to eating, alright?"

Mei stared up toward her, still with a worried look, though she managed a nod before walking away toward the dining room, quickly pulling her hood over her head in shame, yanking the two strings at either end to conceal herself as she nearly changed course into the wall, though Jamison was quick to jump toward her side and direct her, properly, back into the other room.

Emily sighed, scratching her head as she frowned, sadly, staring at the large tree before her, with so many presents that Winston had to actually lift the tree onto a particularly large box in order to fit it in the relative vicinity. She turned back to return the dining room, noticing Angela and Brigitte having returned as well, with the whole chorus of guests having gone silent.

"Okay, well, I guess dessert is needed to get everything back on track," Emily sighed, "Then we'll, uh, I don't know; open pres-"

Torbjorn threw his hand out in front of him, bringing it back against his chest, proudly, "No soldier gets left behind! I'm fine with dessert –I'm sure it's magnificent!- but no presents gets opened without Tracer, right people?!"

Jack nodded, "All of us, or none of us."

Emily grinned, crossing her arms as she lowered her head, afraid she might be tearing up from the wild collection of emotions she'd just gone through. Some of the guest's attentions turned to the dessert table in the corner, expectantly, though Angela remained looking toward Emily. She stood up, patting Fareeha's shoulder as she did so, before approaching the hostess, reaching out to gently rub her arm, comfortingly.

"You've been through enough; I'll take care of her," Angela muttered, much to Emily's surprise.

"What?!" she wondered aloud, "Don't you two-"

Angela shrugged, interrupting her with a tilt of the head, "Don't worry; I won't be too hard on her."

The doctor laughed behind her closed mouth as she patted Emily's shoulder before walking past her toward the staircase amidst the excited voiced of guests experiencing a bevy of wondrous desserts. Emily sighed in relief, now the party seemed somewhat reclaimed, though she still found a pang of sadness in her heart, knowing that Lena wasn't here to share in the warmth.

* * *

A/N: I hope you all had a Merry Christmas, or just a Happy Holidays in general :D Hopefully it was much less hectic than this one xD


	21. Reconciliation

At the top of their little flat, Lena and Emily had what tiny bit of a balcony could have possibly been there. It could only really hold two chairs before being too crowded, so the two would often simply stand at the railing to peer out toward the inner-city metropolis of London, or if the weather was nice enough, Emily would pull a chair through the small door put into the roof and spend a good few hours reading in the fresh air.

Tonight, on a cold night such as this, one would have to be crazy, or heartbroken, to be out on this tiny nook, and yet, were you to see this miniscule slab of material, you would see an elf sitting there, bundled up with her elfish hat pull down over her head to warm her face as she buried her hands between her arms and torso. It was Lena's way of storming out, though even in her anger, she had enough thought for Emily, and to an extent, the others, to come here, rather than out the front door, alleviating any doubt that she would simply leave for some extended period of time.

It also made her easy to find, which was a fact she probably hadn't planned for as the door slowly opened, revealing the head of Angela Ziegler in due time as her lips coiled in regret, the frigid air nearly giving her a shock. She stepped out and closed the door, rubbing her arms vigorously as she bent down to try and shield her body from the wind.

"Dear lord, how do you live in this?" Angela complained.

Lena didn't reply, leaving Angela to groan quietly to herself in realization that this wouldn't be just a simple task. She hobbled over to the balcony and sat down, hoping the wall would help keep the wind from her, which it did an admirable job at doing, allowing the doctor's teeth to, at least, stop chattering. She looked over at Lena, almost sadly, as the girl simply remained still.

"You know, this really isn't 'storm out' weather," Angela pointed out, plainly.

Lena quickly lifted her head, though only exposing her mouth, as her green hat covered the rest still, "Didn't you even hear the narrator?!"

Angela rolled her eyes, "Well, I suppose that means I'm crazy for being out here. Emily probably thought I was crazy, anyway, for volunteering to do this."

"Volunteered?" Lena wondered, accusingly, "You weren't put up to this?!"

Shaking her head, Angela crossed her arms to keep warm, "Nope."

A gloved thumb appeared from Lena's side as she slowly pushed her festive hat up her face enough to expose her suspicious eyes, staring daggers into Angela, though the doctor remained calm, "Then why are you up here?"

"Because, like always, you overreacted. And, if I'm correct even further, you'll eventually get to the point where you've calmed down enough, but by then, you'll be so ashamed that you'll stay up here, anyway, until everyone leaves," Angela explained, easily.

Lena's lips spun angrily as she seethed back in reply, "You think you know me so well…"

"Well, I _do_ ," Angela shrugged, "I _was_ your keeper when you first joined up. I feel a certain responsibility for you, even these days."

Lena scoffed, unimpressed, as she yanked her elf far down her face once again, "Could've fooled me."

Angela watched her curiously, recognizing the tiniest hint at her true emotions through her sarcasm. She thought for a moment before deciding to leave this avenue for another, sighing quietly as she looked off into the distance, peering at the dark silhouettes of buildings that lined London's cityscape.

"Why were so obsessed with making tonight perfect, anyway?" Angela wondered aloud, rhetorically, "Last time we did this, Jesse got so hammered drunk that his wife had to roll him to out on a wagon. I don't think we're the type of crew that should have the label of 'considerate' applied to it."

Angela groaned to herself as she shook her head in disbelief, sincerely devoid of a conclusion, "I just don't get it."

Lena's hands emerged to push her hat back up her face once again, revealing an unamused glare, "Emily wasn't there last time."

"So?" Angela shrugged, "She knows enough about the crew, I _thought_ , that she would know not to expect a party totally devoid of anything woth-"

"I don't want her to leave," Lena mumbled under her breath, catching a confused stare from Angela as she finished, burying her face in her arms as she looked off into the distance, "I can't have her being you and abandoning me."

Angela's eyes broke away, staring listlessly into space as she tried to form some sort of response, only able to come up with, "You know that was different. The group had been disbanded- surely you didn't expect us all to- especially _me_ , the odd one out, constantly. What else was I supposed to-"

"You were supposed to stick with your team!" Lena accused, suddenly, "Not pretend like we all didn't exist! If we all- if you and I could have a bond like that and you just up and abandoned it so easily, what's to say Emily wouldn't…"

She paused, burying her head deeper into her arms to hide her tears, shaking her head restlessly, "Even after I abandon her every time I go off to wherever…"

Angela watched her carefully for only a brief moment before shifting her body around and crawling the short distance toward Lena's side, sitting beside her and wrapping an arm around the pilot's shoulders as she shook, tearfully, "Okay, you seriously need to cut that crap out."

"Not one for comfort, are you?"

The doctor shook her head, "Call it tough love. Look, ignoring, for a second, the reason you hate _me, I'm_ not Emily. _I_ left because I had my own demons to deal with, not because I felt like abandoning the group. I love you guys; yes, even you. Even… Okay, I'm still working on a few people, but did you seriously think I hated you or something?"

Lena didn't reply, leaving Angela to exhale dramatically as she leaned back against the wall, "I mean, you can be annoying as all get out, sure, but I knew that when I first vouched for you to join. As far as Emily, how could you possibly think she'd leave you just because your friends are a bunch of crazy people? You just spent fifteen minutes talking about her panties getting into a twist; how do you possibly not know that you're the craziest of us all, yet she still loves you?"

A quick laugh broke free from Lena as her body shook rapidly, trying her hardest to remain still and 'serious', allowing Angela to go with eyes rolled, "Seriously. It's like you're unaware of the one person you're supposed to be the most aware of. It's like I'm talking to Fareeha."

Lena smirked, "She's not as annoying as I am."

"No, but she knows how to come close," Angela frowned, "You always tease the one you love, though, I guess. I walked in on her dancing to that one Starship song, lip-syncing, trying to get me to sing along. I wasn't going to have any part in that, but she just followed me through the house, dancing away, trying her damndest to get me to join in."

Her stare turning away toward the ground, Lena asked, distantly, "So what makes it worth it if you don't like it?"

Angela shrugged, speaking as plain as day, "I love her. Do I need anything else?"

Lena giggled at the answer's simplicity as Angela went along, finally, "I'm sure Emily is the same. If she's anything like me, she'll put up with the crazy if it means you're coming home to her, and her alone. Fareeha's an annoying woman sometimes, but she's _my_ annoying woman."

Angela turned toward her comrade, "So are we good?"

"I guess," Lena answered, lightly.

Groaning, Angela shook her head, "I swear, you're so easy to cheer up. or rather, you're just difficult to put into a bad mood."

She stood up, still shivering from the cold as she rubbed her arms, "Don't think this changes anything, either. You better keep up appearances; I don't need people asking me why we're all friendly again all of a sudden."

Angela turned toward the door with a blank expression, before speaking up, monotonously, "Oh, hey Gabe."

A burst of blue light dispersed through the air as Lena ported atop the railing, a surprised look on her face as Angela groaned, "Calm down, it's just Emily."

Lena growled as she regained her footing, "That was such a mean joke!"

Angela rolled her eyes, "Just a reminder to get back at me. I'm back now, though; you don't need to feel bitter about me leaving Overwatch."

She opened the door as Emily nearly fell into her, as if unexpectantly holding her ear to the door. She stood up quickly, blushing nervously as she waved her hands in front of her.

"I wasn't listening! I was just-" she turned toward Lena, "How could you think I'd leave you over a party I, really, wasn't expecting to go perfectly?!"

Angela sneaked by, back into the house, closing the door behind her as Lena worriedly crossed her arms, "I know better than that, I just… I don't know."

Emily sighed, wearing a smile as she reached out and wrapped her arms around her, resting her face on Lena's shoulder as she held on, tightly, "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, you know. My life was so plain and monotonous before you ran into me that day-"

Lena cleared her throat in a subtle attempt at argument, though it didn't deter her, "You make every days brighter just by being here with me."

Her lips curling in though, Lena mischievously smirked as she leaned her head over, pushing her cheek against Emily's, which elicited a loud shriek of shock from the redhead as her head darted away. She whipped back toward Lena, who was in the throes of a boisterously light laughter while Emily frowned, holding her cheek.

"That was so cold!" she shouted simply, returning to a soft grin soon enough as she looked away, almost in embarrassment from her previous words.

"Let's head back on in then, love," Lena suggested, reaching out a hand for Emily to take.

Emily watched, suspiciously, as her own hand reached our, slowly, just taking Lena's before the pilot tightened her grip, immediately pulling Emily into her. The pilot's hands flew up and around Emily's neck as she pulled her in for a kiss, her lips seeming to almost burn with how freezing the wind was that surrounded them.

Emily's arms went limp with surrender, though they grew strength enough to reach out and around Lena's waist, pulled the rest of their bodies against one another as Lena made sure their faces were joined in a wonderfully soft dance.

Lena's face pulled away, her eyes peering away, absently, as she thought for a moment, "Hmm. Strawberry. And I thought I was going to miss out on dessert by staying up here."

Emily's body jerked, playfully, in response, trying to demonstrate disapproval, though it was all she could to stay away from Lena's lips. She quickly reached back over to continue their enjoyment of one another, fully understanding that, after this moment, nothing about this evening could be considered anything less than perfect.


End file.
